


Wolf Smile

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Death, F/M, Graphic Descriptions of Rape, Graphic descriptions of abuse, M/M, Mind Control, Murder, Oral Sex, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Torture, Witches, forced impregnation, forced penetration, forced sexual encounters, kidnap, multiple pregnancy, mystical pregnancy, non-con, spells, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:24:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Dark!fic. Please heed the warnings. The reader goes on a hunt and it goes in the worst possible direction. Set in Season One.





	1. Chapter 1

Dirt was scraping against her cheek when she started to come to, her body being roughly pushed into the dirt. Someone was tying her hands behind her back, and she could feel her ankles already bound. Whoever was on top of her grunted, and she managed to open her eyes.

Across from her, the glassy dead gaze of the girl she’d failed to save was on her. Horror welled up in her chest as she took in the injuries the other woman had suffered, visible all over her naked body. And now, she was in his grasp.

“I know you’re awake, my love,” the man crooned, finally fastening her bindings. Y/N struggled, weak from the blow to her head. “I didn’t know I’d attracted the attention of a hunter. I’m sure you’ll be a strong one.” He chuckled like it was a game, and Y/N snarled, blowing dirt away from her face.

“Let me go!” she threatened, bucking against him, but her captor simply patted her ass and got up. Taking the opportunity, Y/N twisted her body, swinging her legs towards his, but the limp blow only bounced off of his calves. The man laughed, peering down at her, and for the first time, she got a good look at his face.

He wasn’t hideous, or a monster. He looked just like an ordinary man off the street, someone you wouldn’t glance twice at. His clothes were pristine, and his nails neatly trimmed, and the scruff around his chin looked like it had only been there a day or so.

“Sweet girl,” he crooned. “You are so perfect.” He moved to the dead girl, shoving her with his food, and her body slid across the floor, stiff with death. “And I know you’re going to be so much more worthy than this one.” Bending down, he placed one hand on her bare chest, groping her breast with a smirk on his face. “Although, she was useful for a little while.” His eyes blazed, and he stilled his hand in between her breasts, his palm flat against her bluish skin. “Incendium.”

The corpse caught fire, the flames spreading rapidly, the acrid smell of burning flesh made Y/N choke. Her captor stood up, moving back to her with that wolfish grin on his face and Y/N knew she was no longer the hunter.

“Are you going to fight me, my love?”

Y/N’s eyes were watery, but she refused to show weakness. The man grabbed for her, sliding his fingers underneath the bindings of her ankles,  dragging her across the dirt floor.

“Now,” he started, as if he was holding a normal conversation. “I don’t like moving home, but you’re bound to have some big lugs who will get concerned when they don’t hear from you. You’re a pretty little thing after all -” Y/N winced when he pulled her body from the floor, hoisting it over his shoulder. He was strong, and had about a hundred pounds on her, and carried her like she weighed nothing. “So we’re going to have to take a little drive. Just in case my countermeasures don’t work.”

Outside the house, her car sat, next to the normal looking sedan outside the garage. The man moved to the other car, opening the trunk and lowering her inside. Instantly, Y/N started to panic, shaking her head. “Please, no, don’t -”

“Sssh,” he crooned, producing some duct tape from out of nowhere. “I need you to be very quiet.” Her protests were turned into muffled noise as he placed a strip over her lips, before stroking her face almost lovingly. “You are so beautiful. I cannot wait to make you mine.” Y/N tripled her efforts, trying to buck him off. “Now, your car and all your belongings will remain here,” he chatted, moving a folding blanket from the back of the trunk and forcing it under her head. “You won’t need them. I’ll provide everything for you, my love.”

His hands were back on her face, and Y/N could feel the tears starting to escape; frustration, anger, and fear all pushing her to the edge. Her captor smiled, his hand trailed down, over her breasts, not stopping until he was able to shove his hand between her thighs. The violation was unwelcome, and so was the rush of heat from his touch.

She didn’t want to react like that. She didn’t want any of this.

A sob was blocked by the duct tape, and her captor pulled away, smiling that creepy predatory smile of his. “Try to rest,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, before locking her in.

Y/N screamed, the sound useless against the tape, and tears soaked her cheeks. Nothing happened. She fell quiet, hearing the sound of the man fumbling around outside, and then a burning smell filtered into her space. The car started up, and she contorted her body, twisting and crying out, but nothing did any good.

No one was coming for her.

*****

At some point, she passed out from sheer exhaustion. There was no way of knowing how long she was out, but she woke when the car came to a stop, the engine cutting out. Keeping as still as she could, she listened as the driver side door open and shut, jostling the whole vehicle.

She heard footsteps in gravel, walking away from her. It was sunny outside - she could see it through the cracks of the trunk. So she had to have been out for a while, which meant she could be anywhere in the United States.

Hopelessness filled her, and fresh tears leaked from her eyes.

The footsteps returned, and the lock on the trunk clicked. Sunlight filled the previously dark space, and Y/N squinted, barely seeing her captor’s silhouette. “We are home,” the man said, leaning in to scoop her from the trunk.

Without food or water, Y/N had only weakened, and she had nothing to give when he carried her towards the house. It was a modest two-story farmhouse, with a quaint garden, and nothing but fields all around. The sort of place where no one heard you scream.

She was going to die here.

The man carried her up the steps onto the porch, and through the door that he’d obviously opened in preparation. As his foot crossed the threshold, he chuckled, and Y/N couldn’t think of anything fucking funny at that moment.

“Traditional, isn’t it? To carry one’s bride over the threshold of their home?” His cheeks were rosy, and Y/N wanted to headbutt him in the face. She wasn’t anyone’s bride, but it wasn’t like she could protest that. “Now, we’ve had a long journey, and you’re probably ready to sleep.” He moved with her past the kitchen and sitting room, onto the oak-paneled staircase. Ascending, Y/N tried to get a good look around, to formulate a plan of escape. She could steal the car, get to civilization. Contact someone - maybe Dean would answer his phone for once.

Her captor carried her into a bedroom, with a large queen bed, and modestly decorated furniture. Everything was white and clean, and well presented, and Y/N wondered if he owned the place, or if he’d killed the actual owners. As far as she’d figured from the case, this guy had killed dozens of women over decades of activity, so god knows what he was capable of.

“The others were never here,” he said, laying her down on the bed. “I just want you to know that. I was saving this place for someone truly special, and I think,” he paused, stroking her face. “I think I’ve found the woman I’ve been looked for my whole life. It’s going to be perfect.”

Y/N shuddered at his touch, and he just smiled at her. Reaching up, he took the duct tape off of her mouth with one swift action, and she yelped loudly. “Ow! Let me go, you fucking psycho,” she growled, but the guy just smiled wider, like he hadn’t heard her.

“Of course, my love,” he replied. “As soon as you fulfil your vows.”

“I don’t have any fucking vows,” Y/N snapped, trying to summon the energy to squeeze her hands out of the restraints. Her wrists were red raw and bleeding, and the circulation was slowly cutting off where she was lying on them. “I’m not your wife, not your love - let me go, or I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Sssh,” he urged, patting her thigh, his touch lingering a little too long. “You’ll see how good this is. I promise.” He stood up, glancing towards an unopened door on the other side of the room. “Now, I imagine you could use a shower.” He wasn’t wrong; Y/N had been left with no option but to soil herself when she’d been in the trunk, and combined with the dirt from the hunt, she felt disgusting.

But she wasn’t about to admit that to him.

“I’ll go and turn the water on, let it get nice and hot, and we’ll get you all cleaned up.” He smiled, walking towards the door and opening it to reveal a plush ensuite. Y/N struggled again, trying her hardest to get free as the nutcase continued to talk to her. “Once you’re freshened up, we can have some dinner. I have some lovely wine in the cellar.”

She didn’t want wine. He was acting like she was a willing participant in this, and she didn’t even know his fucking name. “Just let me go!” she screamed, frustrated tears coursing down her cheeks. Her captor appeared in the doorway, frowning. “Please, just… let me go.”

“Oh ssh,” he soothed, coming back towards her, sitting on the bed. “I have something that may help with your discomfort so we can get you cleaned up,” he added, smiling and placing his hand on her cheek. “Parere.” The word slipped from his lips like a hiss, and something swept through Y/N’s body, ceasing her physical struggles like she had no control over herself. “I should have done this earlier, but I was tired from disposing of that other one.”

The guy smiled like he hadn’t casually mentioned incinerating the woman he killed and reached down to undo her feet. Y/N waited, planning to spring and kick him in the face as soon as she was free, and -

Nothing happened.

She couldn’t move anything at all. He started to unbind her wrists, and then he was undressing her, taking piece after piece of her clothing, and she couldn’t even cry at his touch, or tell him no. Her skin was on display to him, and he was dragging his fingers over her like she was his possession.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, staring as her nipples pebbled in the cold. “You may speak to me, my love.”

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N pleaded, unable to do anything else. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

“You are meant for me,” he replied. “How else would a hunter find me when I was so careful? You are intelligent and strong, and young -” He placed a hand over her lower belly, spreading his fingers so his pinky was touching her mound, and Y/N couldn’t even stiffen at the intrusion of her personal being. “Fertile,” he muttered, almost delightedly.

“Please -”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he announced, and Y/N just let him pull her off of the bed by her hand, leading her to the bathroom.

“I don’t even know your name,” Y/N said, lamely, not putting up a second resistance. Her captor turned, admiring her body again, pulling her close and holding her wrists up for inspection. He whispered a word over the red marks from the bindings, and the wounds began to heal.

A smile covered his face. “I’m going to take care of you, Y/N. My name is Erik.” He cupped her cheek, leaning in to kiss her, and Y/N felt sick all over again. But she couldn’t do anything, reduced to being a puppet to his whims. “Come now,” he whispered, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Erik didn’t touch her in the shower - he left her alone, still controlled by his spell, and his order to wash thoroughly was enacted obediently. When he returned, he had a towel, and he dried her off like a toddler, leading her into the bedroom where he had laid out clothes.

A simple black dress, somehow in her size, and nothing else. “This will be all you need to wear,” he instructed, holding the dress out to her, dressing her like a child as she obediently did as he wanted. “There are clean ones in the closet. You sleep naked.” Y/N wanted to refuse, but she couldn’t. “Tomorrow, we will begin our lives together.”

_ No, no, we won’t. I’m going to stab you in your sleep. _

“Now,” Erik started, gesturing to the door. “Follow me downstairs, and we shall have our supper.” Her feet betrayed her, leading her down the hall to the stairs, only a pace behind her captor. In the living room, he’d prepared food, a simple affair, but her stomach growled at the sight of it anyway.

He ordered her to sit, and then ordered her to eat. Every time he told her to do something, Y/N fought against the command, but her body was his entirely. So far, it was nothing but a creepshow… that didn’t mean something worse wasn’t going to happy later.

She needed to escape.

He couldn’t keep this spell up forever.

“I’ve been alone for a long time,” Erik started, raising his glass in her direction. “I’m so glad I have found you.”

“You kidnapped me,” Y/N replied, and he sighed, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “You’re planning to… you’re… you’re fucking sick.”

“I think that’s enough small talk for the evening,” he said, and Y/N could feel the power in his words. “Finish your meal.” Another command she had no choice but to obey. And maybe she was done talking, but Erik was not. “As I was saying - I’ve never met a woman with your strength. Your passion. All my other companions… they were failures. Every one of them.”

How long had he been doing this? How long had he been kidnapping and killing women to fulfil his sick needs? And how long did she have until she was no longer “perfect”?

“There was one girl,” he continued to speak, uncaring of her reactions or thoughts - she simply ate as he went on. “I think… sometime in the seventies…” Erik paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. “No, it was just after the French Revolution -”

_ The French Revolution? _ Y/N blinked, wondering just how old this man was. He was obviously in possession of some strong magic, and witches did harness the power of darkness to live longer…

“She was beautiful. Such a pretty figure, all soft and round. And she screamed like she was singing an aria.” Erik sighed, shaking his head. “But she didn’t last.” He brightened, sipping his wine again. “Mm, but you will. You will be the perfect wife, I’m sure of it.”

Terror curled in Y/N’s belly as she finished her meal, feeling like she’d throw it all up again. With no order to follow, her body went still, waiting for Erik to finish eating. He didn’t speak anymore, and Y/N wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with that or not.

While her body was unresponsive, her mind was working a mile a minute to formulate an escape plan. If he dropped the spell, she could kill him, get out of here, wire the car and run. Find help. He had to drop it eventually; no single witch could sustain a spell for that long right? Maybe when he slept, or…

“Well,” his voice startled her, “that was nice.” Erik smiled, dabbing the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “I’m quite tired, my dear, shall we retire for the evening?” The words didn’t leave her any space to reply, and her heart was thundering in her chest. He got up, approaching her and offering his hand. It was an unspoken command, but clear enough, and Y/N lifted her fingers to his, allowing him to assist her from the table. Her throat was dry and she wanted nothing more than to scream and struggle, pull away and run.

But his hold over her was stronger magic than she’d ever faced.

Erik’s wolfish grin was focused on her, as if he could sense her fight against her own legs, trying to free herself. He didn’t need to speak to know she was helpless, and she didn’t want to know what lay at the end of the hallway. He was going to touch, take her, and she had no way of preventing it.

“My love,” Erik soothed, stroking the side of her face. “Don’t fret. It is our wedding night, and I shall be gentle.” Her body wouldn’t obey when she tried to shake her head, when she tried to scream no and spit in his face. His hand was on her breast now, groping it through the thin material of the black dress. “You are so beautiful.”

It would have been a wonderful compliment if the man wasn’t a kidnapper, a witch or a raging psychopath. He was still smiling, white teeth flashing between his lips, and when he lowered his head to kiss her, Y/N wanted to puke.

Instead, she reciprocated the kiss, like a goddamn sex robot. Her skin was crawling, yet she clung to him as he moved her into the bedroom and towards the bed. The dress came off easily, and Erik stood back to look down at her naked body.

She wished the ground would swallow her whole. She wished she could die right there. She wished for anything but what was about to happen.

“Lie down,” he commanded, palming himself through the slack of his dress pants. “Arms by your side, legs spread.” Y/N obeyed, feeling tears pool in her eyes and slip out from under her lashes. “That’s it,” Erik hissed, walking around the bed to survey her, unbuckling his pants as he went. “Now, lift one hand, and touch your breast.” Again, she did as she was told, and Erik reached into his trousers, freeing his cock. He stroked himself, watching as Y/N’s fingers groped her breast, making the nipple pebble in the cool air.

A deep groan split the air and he stepped closer until his thighs were pressing against the bottom of the bed.

“Other hand… on your pussy, my love,” he instructed, his voice lower than it had been. Y/N’s hand was trembling as she moved it, closing her eyes when her fingers grazed against her puffy lips. Erik rumbled low in his chest. “Do you want to cum, Y/N?”

_ No. No, I don’t. I want to disappear into nothingness. _

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he asked, his tone cruel and withering. “I want to hear it.”

A sob left her throat as her body responded to her own touch, unable to control it. “I want to go home,” she whimpered, tears sliding from her eyes, down over her cheeks to tickle the insides of her ears. “Please, don’t do this…”

Erik chuckled, and the bed dipped between Y/N’s feet as he climbed onto it. The second his knees touched her legs, she cried out, repeating the word “no” louder and louder the more of his weight came upon her. His hands were on her hips, sliding down to spread her thighs even more, and she could smell his breath and the wine he drank at dinner.

“Please,” she sobbed, almost blind with tears she couldn’t wipe away, but he only smiled that wolf smile and stroked her face. She hated him touching her face - it was too intimate, too soft. If this was going to happen, she wanted it to hurt. It didn’t feel right that it happened at all, let alone that he would be tender with her.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Erik whispered, pulling her hand away from her sex, then kissing the corner of her mouth.

In her head, she bit his nose off and tore his throat out.

In reality, she could feel his thick cockhead at her soaked entrance, and the shame of her body enjoying this being forced upon her. She could hear his low moan as he violated her body, pushing inside her inch by inch.

She felt like she was dying inside.

Y/N sobbed as he rolled his hips, pushing his cock all the way into her, his hairy hips coming flush with the backs of her thighs. His fingers were leaving red marks on her hip where he gripped her tightly, and she wanted to retch when he kissed her, thrusting his slimy tongue between her pliant lips.

“So wet, so strong,” Erik groaned, holding her close. “You’re mine now, Y/N. I’m going to take such good care of you, my love.”

“Please,” she cried, her voice hoarse. “Please stop…”

He didn’t listen, moving his entire body against her, and for a second there was nothing but pain. Y/N wasn’t a virgin by any stretch, but she’d always been picky about her lovers. And this guy… this  _ monster _ was giving her no choice in the matter, using her body like it was his. His thick grunts and the pulsing of his cock inside her made her stomach roll, and she wanted to puke when warmth gathered in her core.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” Erik whispered, like he was her lover not her rapist, and she didn’t want to obey. She tried to push it down, closing her eyes, trying to ignore the sweaty-slick touch of his skin against hers. But his command stuck, and she was forced to acknowledge that she was about to cum for him.

She didn’t cry out in bliss, biting her lip hard enough to make it bleed, tears still rolling fat trails down her cheeks. He was watching her, could feel her throbbing around his dick, but she wasn’t giving him what he wanted. Slamming his hips into her, Erik grunted in irritation, opting to chase his own release rather than punish her for rules he hadn’t taught her yet.

When he came, Y/N sobbed harder, feeling it leak out around his length, dripping down her ass to pool on the sheet underneath her. He didn’t pull out straight away, and when he did, he sat back, admiring the sight of cum dribbling from her abused hole.

“Such a beautiful woman,” Erik pulled, stroking her calf, and her mind curled into a ball when her body couldn’t. He didn’t clean her up, climbing into the other side of the bed, beckoning her backwards to spoon her. With one of his arms over her waist, he held her close, sighing happily into her ear. “Tomorrow, we will go over the house rules. I just wanted tonight. Our first. It should be special, shouldn’t it?”

Y/N couldn’t express the shudder that travelled her spine, but he didn’t say anything about it. The spell still weighed her down inside her own skin, and she didn’t think she could ever sleep knowing he was there, right behind her, the evidence of his crime drying into a sticky mess on her thighs.

She didn’t want to know what the house rules were.

In time, Erik fell asleep, snoring softly, tickling the hair on the back of her neck with his exhalation. She was empty of tears, and pinned against him, and that was where she remained until the sun rose, with her rapist being the big spoon.


	3. Chapter 3

He was a different man when he woke up.

Y/N could tell when he roused, feeling the shift from complete relaxation to alertness, and his cock stirred against her backside. Expecting the worst, she closed her eyes, only to feel him move up and away from her. She stayed in the same position, eyes open again, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch.

When Erik shut the bathroom door, she tried to take stock of her surroundings, but there wasn’t much time. He returned a moment later, spotting her open eyes, which prompted him to stop and watch her. “You’re awake,” he murmured, striding over to the bed. He was still nude, and Y/N waited for what she knew was coming. “DIdn’t you sleep?”

Why did he sound angry?

She hadn’t done anything wrong, she’d just laid there, without even moving. Had he sensed her plotting? Her ideas for escape from this hell?

“Fucking idiot!” he shouted suddenly, hitting himself in the head. “Should have told the bitch to sleep. Too caught up in pussy.” Y/N cowered in her head, unable to protect herself. Erik growled, and the sound was menacingly loud, before pressing his pale hand against her forehead.

Everything went black.

She didn’t know how long she’d been out when she came too, feeling well rested but no less terrified. It took a few seconds for everything to rush back, and when it did, she tried not to sob.

Lifting her head in her seat, she found herself bound to a chair with sturdy wooden legs and arms. Her eyes went wide when she realized she could wriggle her fingers of her own accord. Not that it would do her much good when she was just restrained in a different way.

At the moment, she was alone. And also naked. Luckily it wasn’t uncomfortably cold in the room she was in, that was vastly different in decor to the bedroom she remembered. Concrete walls coated in plain sealant, and a heavy looking door locking her in. On the floor, there were symbols painted in red and white, none of which made sense to her.

She sucked in a breath, trying to balance herself. “I’m alive,” she whispered, relieved that she could still use her voice. Erik had obviously taken the opportunity to put her in more manageable bonds, but she had no clue where she was or where he was. This didn’t look like part of the quaint secluded farmhouse.

A door slammed far away, and fear made her back go rigid. Footsteps thudded towards her, and she started to struggle, instinct telling her to do  _ anything  _ to try and save herself. When the door opened and Erik appeared, dressed in slacks and a sweater, she stared at him, wide-eyed.

Then she screamed.

His hand cracked across her face with a sound that bounced off of the concrete walls, and Y/N fell silent, wincing at the scarlet sting on her cheek. Erik glared at her, shaking his head. “You will obey.” There wasn’t any room for argument in his statement.

Y/N had one anyway.

“Let me go.”

Erik rolled his eyes, looking away like he was dealing with an exasperated child. “Still on that? You’re safe here.”

“You raped me,” she hissed, and his wolf smile appeared. He reached up, caressing her face softly.

“You loved it,” he replied, and Y/N wanted to claw his eyes out, straining against her bonds. “They’re magically reinforced,” he informed her, the smile still eating up his face. “You’re mine now. I’ve claimed you.” His fingers danced on her thigh, skittering between her legs, and she clamped her thighs together, denying him access.

Erik laughed, cupping her breast instead.

“I’ve been inside you, Y/N,” he whispered, flicking his thumb over her nipple, which betrayed her by swelling and puckering at his attention. “I’ve left my cum in your belly. And I’m going to do it again. Whether you enjoy it or not.”

Her eyes were wide and watery, and when Erik stood up abruptly. It was jarring when her core throbbed, demanding more attention. She shook the feeling away, sucking in a breath. “Why me?”

He shrugged. “You’re a hunter. You’re strong. You’ll be able to tolerate a lot more than those other bitches. They were all a let down, but you? You’re different.” Erik walked around her, trailing his hand over her shoulders, leaning down to whisper into her ear. “I’ve search for centuries for someone like you. Someone worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” she replied, feeling her heart pound.

But he only chuckled, moving away again. “That will come later. Right now, I need to run over the house rules.”

“Fuck you,” Y/N growled, spitting at him, but that only encouraged his mirth. “I’m going to rip your throat out. People will notice I’m not checking in. Other hunters will chase you down.” Was she putting on a comedy show, because the monster was bent double now, clutching himself as he laughed. Y/N glared, wishing she could kill him with just a look.

“Your friend Pastor Jim?” he asked, and she went still, color draining from her face. Erik smirked, leaning against the wall to watch you. “ _ Hi Jim. _ ” Her voice came out of his mouth, and she felt sick to her stomach. “ _ Case was a bust, nothing to worry about. I’m heading to New York, check out a ghoul case. Take care. _ ”

Y/N swallowed. He’d impersonated her, called Jim and told him lies. Thrown him off the scent. Jim was one of her dad’s oldest friends, and a good hunting contact. If he didn’t think anything was wrong…

“Like I said, my love,” Erik murmured, walking back over to her. “You’re mine.” His fingers gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “And you will obey my rules, or I will punish you.”

“Why don’t you just kill me?” she pleaded, blinking to rid her eyes of the build-up of tears.

Erik stroked her bottom lip, tugging it downwards. “You’re no good to me dead, Y/N. So do as I say, and I will make you  _ very _ happy.” She doubted that, and she knew she wouldn’t acquiesce to his requirements anytime soon. It seemed Erik picked up on that. “If you don’t, I have plenty of time to train you.” He leaned in, kissing her lips chastely and Y/N didn’t even think to bite him. “We’ve got forever.”

*****

The house rules were fairly simple. Y/N was to sleep naked, in his bed, unless she had displeased him. He informed her that the house was her home, and as so, he expected her to maintain the duties of a wife. She was allowed to watch television, and have free reign, but if Erik wanted something, she was to obey instantly.

When he was done telling her what she could and couldn’t do in the house, he freed her, but not before he made a puppet out of her again. Like a dog, she followed him down the hallway that looked like a nuclear bunker, tears dripping down her face and onto her breasts.

“This room will be where you stay while I am out,” Erik instructed as he led her from the room. “You will always be locked in there when I am not here, until you can be trusted.”  _ Trusted? So if she could convince him to trust her, think she’s not going to run… false sense of security. _

_ That could take weeks _ .

Despair filled her when they passed several closed doors, quite close to each other. “This place was an old government facility. They sold the land it’s on, and never removed this place. I was quite fortunate to find it,” he commented, cheerily, and Y/N shuddered at the thought of what was behind those doors. “There was some very useful equipment they left behind too.”

That wasn’t an encouraging sentence.

“Now, we’re going to go upstairs to the bedroom. I want you on all fours, wet and ready for me.” He stopped at the end of the hall, stopping before they reached stone steps. “You can do that, can’t you, my love?” Y/N swallowed, and he lifted his arm, cupping her chin. “You are always to answer me, Y/N.”

“Yes,” she rasped. His eyebrow arched, and she swallowed again, trying to build up some saliva. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” Erik praised, patting her rump, and she held back a sob. “Off you go.”

The stone steps led up to a door, which opened out into a small shed. It was completely camouflaged, and when Y/N stepped through the shed door, she found herself at the bottom of a garden path to the rear of the farmhouse. It was a bright sunny afternoon, and she had been instructed to go up to the bedroom.

She had to cross the yard in broad daylight, completely nude.

It didn’t matter that there wasn’t anyone around. It was humiliating.

Erik walked a few steps behind her, watching her progress, his wolf smile in place. He was pleased that she wasn’t protesting more, and he sensed less fight in her than the night before. It would only take a few more nights and she would be completely his.

And then, he could start to think about the future.

Y/N stumbled a little when she stepped on a rock, and Erik seized the chance to impose some more trusting behavior on her, sprinting to her side and scooping her off of the ground. “I should have given you some shoes, my love,” he whispered, happy when she reflexively slung her arms around his neck. “Let’s get you inside.”

The warmth of her body curled against his larger frame made him hard, and by the time Erik reached the top of the stairs, he was aching for her. She had felt it too when he pressed her even closer into his arms, and there was fear clouding her emotions; he couldn’t resist touching her.

He placed her on the bed gently, rolling her over onto her front. It took only a second of thought to release her bindings, but it took longer for her to realize. Erik smiled when she moved her fingers, eyes going wide where she was pressed into the mattress.

His hand was on the small of her back, and he slid it upwards to press down on the back of her neck, making her wail. “You are so beautiful, my love,” he murmured, using his free hand to pry her thighs apart. He’d intentionally kept her weak for now, until she’d learned her place as his property. “I’m afraid I cannot help myself.”

Y/N screamed when he thrust two fingers into her abused pussy, crooking them just so. He smiled, working them back and forth until she was wet, leaving his digits glistening with her arousal.

“It’s not so hard to pretend you don’t like it when there’s no spell,” Erik informed her, straddling her thighs while keeping one hand on her neck. Y/N flailed and clawed at the sheets, sobbing loudly when he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock free. “It’s okay; you can admit that you like it. There’s only us here.”

She was wet, still slick with his spendings from the night before, but that didn’t stop her shrieking in pain when he sheathed himself inside her body with one fell stroke. The loud wail became cries, and tears fell freely from her cheeks as Erik slammed her into the bed over and over, pumping his hips until his climax was done. It took him a few seconds to realize she hadn’t cum, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Try and keep up next time,” he spat, pulling out of her. “Get showered. I want you dressed and downstairs in ten minutes.” He tucked himself away and stormed out of the room, slamming the door. Y/N lay there, sobbing and open from his assault, feeling his cum drying on her pussy lips. It took an enormous amount of energy to stand up and hobble to the bathroom, wary of making him angry by being late.

She didn’t want to be punished.

Unfortunately, she thought he might find a way to punish her whatever she did.


	4. Chapter 4

It was three days before she slipped up. Erik had instructed her to prepare food for them, while he read the paper, and Y/N had seethed at the Stepword wife order. So far, he’d kept her close to him at all times, not leaving the house, and the frustration was getting to her.

She needed a chance to escape.

Last night, he’d nearly forgotten the binding spell, and she thought she’d had a window. Good thing it was easy to calm your panicked features when you were a puppet to his whim. While she’d feigned sleep beside him, trapped in her body again, she pondered all the ways to get free, to kill Erik.

She wanted to torture him.

Hunters had active imaginations where it came to killing people.

When he’d woken this morning, Erik had started issuing orders. Y/N was mostly relieved when it was chores, the prospect of him forcing himself on her again was the worst thing she could think of. But no, he wanted a wife in every regard.

She’d slipped into the black dress and he had presented her with a pair of pumps to wear, and when she didn’t thank him, Erik scolded her. With a whisper, she complied, sobbing “thank you, sir,” at him, and he’d calmed. The rest of the morning was cleaning, and being shown which rooms she was not allowed into.

When he ordered her to make some lunch, Y/N had panicked. Years of diner food and roadhouses hadn’t left her with much of a skill for cooking, and Erik wanted a perfect wife. If she couldn’t cook…

“Just something simple, like a sandwich. Use the sourdough bread, it’s much better for you.” The order was so patronizing, that she wanted to raise her fist and punch him, but when he suddenly released the bindings on her, she still couldn’t move.

He could probably gain control over her with little more than a thought, and Y/N was suddenly unsure of herself. Erik was powerful, witch or not - he could easily overpower her.

“Go on, my love,” Erik urged, smiling, waiting for her obedience with a dark glint in his eye. He  _ wanted _ her to fuck up. He  _ wanted _ to punish her.

Y/N turned slowly and padded towards the kitchen, feeling his eyes on her the entire way. Once out of his sight, she exhaled heavily, trying not to let the tears flow. She had to be hardened, cold - just until she could get out of there.

Everything in the kitchen was easy to find, until she got to the bread bin. Inside, there were three loaves, and Y/N suddenly realized she didn’t have the first damn clue about types of bread. As far as she was concerned there was brown, and there was white.

“Is everything okay, my love?”

Erik’s voice floated through from the sitting room, and Y/N heard the scrunching of a newspaper. He read the broadsheets, naturally. She swallowed, calling back, “I’m fine.”

_ Run _ .

_ Why are you making a fucking sandwich? _

The kitchen window was locked. She was unsure about the back door, which was in sight of where Erik was sitting, and she didn’t know if there was fences or traps in the surrounding land. Maybe she’d get a few miles, but she didn’t know the lay of the land, and she didn’t know the full extent of his powers.

Footsteps. He was checking on her.

Y/N grabbed a bread knife, slicing at the first bread she reached, smiling nervously when he walked up to her.

_ Stab him _ .

“You’re taking an awfully long time, Y/N,” Erik said, sternly.

_ Just. Fucking. Stab. Him. _

Her breathing was erratic, and Erik looked down to the knife, the wolf smile appearing on his face. “Do you really want to hurt me?” he asked, reaching out to her. Y/N swallowed around the lump of fear in her throat, staring at him. “I love you, Y/N. I only wish to keep you safe.”

_ Stab him. _

Her hand didn’t move, and internally she was screaming. Erik’s hand wrapped around the knife and tugged it from her grasp, leaving her weaponless. He glanced at the bread, frowning at it.

“I said the sourdough bread,” he growled, brandishing the knife, and Y/N’s stomach flip-flopped in terror. “That is granary. Why can’t you get this right?” Y/N shrieked as he lunged for her, but she didn’t feel the knife like she was expecting. It skittered away across the floor, while Erik pinned her down with one large hand across her throat.

_ He wanted you to fuck up. _

He was grinning now, the wolf on top of his prey. “Maybe you need some incentive,” he sneered, climbing to his feet and hauling her with him like a rag doll. She was still in control of her body, which made her even more hopeless against his strength.

Erik carried her out of the back door and down the path to the shed, ignoring her panicked cry when he almost knocked her face on the door frame. Once inside the bunker, Y/N expected him to take her to the room she’d been in before, but he stopped at the first door he came to, opening it and stepping inside.

Everything was dark, and Y/N’s soft whimpers bounced off of the walls. Erik reached out, flicking a switch, and a red-tinged light filled the room. It was another concrete room, but this one had one single item of furniture - a wooden A-shaped frame in the middle, almost like the hurdles from high school gymnastics but smaller, and not cushioned. At the bottom, on each four legs, there were thick chains with leather straps, and Y/N knew what the intention was.

That spurred her into action, and she kicked and screamed, wiggling against Erik until he grew annoyed and dropped her on the floor. Almost immediately, she scrambled for the door, losing a shoe in the process, but too quickly, his fingers were around her ankle, dragging her back towards the A-frame.

“Now,” he grunted, tugging her upwards from the floor, holding her by the throat with one hand and the other over her chest, pinning her. “You’re going to behave, and I’m not going to use the binding. You need to learn to follow instruction.” He jerked her towards the frame. “Get over that.”

The second he released her, she spun, slamming her elbow into his face. Erik snarled, clutching his cheek and Y/N bolted.

His voice stopped her at the door. “Stop.” Her body was no longer hers. “I wanted to do this easily. You need to learn -” He cut off, sighing in frustration. “Turn around.” Y/N sobbed, crying again. She was lost. “Bend over the frame. Legs spread.”

Her footsteps were measured and calm, and she felt like a ghost trying to pull her body backward. It was almost like she was watching herself from outside her shell, and she couldn’t do anything as Erik secured her ankles and wrists in the frame restraints.

He stepped away, and Y/N couldn’t see him. There was a sound like a cupboard being opened, and then he returned, his presence palpable in the air around her. A second later, the binding spell lifted, and his hand pushed up her dress, his thumb sliding between her ass cheeks. Cold metal followed, slick with lubricant, moving down towards her puckered hole. Y/N struggled but she had little to no room to move.

“I was going to wait a while for this training,” Erik commented, pushing the object into her, and she wailed at the burning sensation. He was slow, calm, and when her ass gave way, Y/N felt a sudden fullness. “You see, I’m a traditional man. And I intend to claim you in every way. But I don’t want you broken just yet, so I’ll ease you into this one.”

She didn’t want to know what that meant, even though she was sure she’d find out.

“Now, I’ve claimed you here,” his fingers brushed against her exposed pussy and she jumped at the touch, ashamed of the gush of wetness that betrayed her arousal, and Erik chuckled. “And as delectable as your sweet little cunt is, I think I’m interested in something else right now. Something that any good wife needs to learn.”

His shadow shifted in the red light, and his wolf smile was on her again. He unbuckled his pants, freeing his cock, and offering it up to Y/N’s swollen lips. She swallowed, dragging her eyes up to his. Erik was just grinning, waiting.

“Now, now, my love,” he whispered, pulling her head up when she tried to shy again. “You need to learn.” The thought of biting him crossed her mind but it quickly occurred to her that she’d still be tied to the frame, and Erik would be  _ pissed _ . His thumb dragged over her bottom lip, and Y/N opened her mouth, trying not to wince at the salty taste of his cock on her tongue.

Erik watched as she took the first few inches, before her eyes watered and her cheeks turned red. She started to pull back, away from him, but he was adamant that she learn her lesson. He placed one hand on her head, scrunching her hair between his fingers, and thrust hard, bulging out her throat with his dick, and groaning as she choked around him.

When he pulled back, she was gasping, drooling, and crying, and Erik had never seen anything more beautiful. With his fist in her hair, he thrust back between her lips, not pulling back this time. He kept going, pumping his hips furiously as Y/N struggled not to choke. The constant constrictions of her throat, her muffled cries, and her struggles all combined, and he came in seconds, pumping a thick load of spunk down into her belly.

This time when he pulled away, she was dribbling his cum onto the floor, gasping and almost purple in the face. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t lasted any longer, but he’d been right about her. She was stronger than the others. She was the one.

“You are amazing,” Erik murmured, bending down to look her in the eye. “Try to rest,” he instructed, standing up and patting her head like a dog. “I’ll be back later.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she wrenched her head up, trying to scream at him to wait, that she wanted to apologize, but he was gone. The door locked with a definitive thud, and Y/N hung her head, sobbing heavily.

The plug in her ass stung, and the foul taste of him was coating her mouth and throat, and she knew she’d never be rid of it. This was hell. There wasn’t any place worse.

And no one knew she was even missing.

*****

**_Three Months Later_ **

The constant drip-drip of the tap was driving her insane. Erik had gone out for an appointment of some sort, which was odd in itself, and he’d left Y/N at the farmhouse with strict instructions to stay at the kitchen table. Her butt hurt from the chair, and the plug in her ass, and the plug in her pussy was keeping her on edge.

Y/N had quickly learned the rules of her life after the incident with the frame. Erik hadn’t taken her back to that room again, but he had taken her to others, and the punishments she’d endured were things she never wanted to relive. In those rooms, Erik was sadistic, sometimes to the point that Y/N thought (and sometimes hoped) she might die. But he never went that far.

Upstairs, in the farmhouse, for the most part, he was gentle and strict. He would lock himself away in his study, one of the rooms that she wasn’t allowed in, and instruct her to amuse herself.

She knew now that the binding spell he had on her was triggered by a charm somewhere on her body. She’d spent time in the shower trying to figure it out, but so far, she hadn’t come up with anything. Until she could find it, and remove it, the binding spell was going to severely hamper her chances of escape.

And in the meantime, she had to play the Stepford Wife.

It was hell. His touch crawled across her skin with every waking moment, and the scent of him permeated everything around her. She couldn’t ever wash herself clean or rid herself of Erik’s presence.

He’d been gone for two hours when the door opened and he walked into the house, heading straight for the kitchen to find Y/N exactly where he’d left her. Erik smiled, bending to kiss her cheek before going to make a cup of coffee.

“There’s been a change of plans,” he announced, waiting for the pot to warm, and Y/N watched him, keeping a pleasant smile on her face. She knew not to glare at him anymore. “I saw Dr Richards this morning, and he says I’m not likely to be able to get you pregnant,” he explained, like a proper husband, wringing his hands over a life-changing decision. One she knew nothing about. “But you’re very fertile. Of course, I can’t go through the official channels, especially now the good doctor is dead.” Erik chortled, and Y/N tried not to throw up.

He wanted to have kids.

_ This psycho. _

_ A parent. _

Her insides shriveled.

“So, I’m going to have to find someone to do it for me. And I’m being picky, don’t worry,” he grinned, like this was the easiest, most casual conversation ever, sliding into the chair opposite her. “Besides, we can have some fun while we’re at it,” he added, looking thoughtful. “It’s been a while since I’ve done that.”

She didn’t want to ask what was going through his mind.

Erik reached over, patting her hand. “We’ll figure it out. I can’t wait to see you all round with babies. Our future is just starting.” He sighed happily.

Y/N just stared back, wishing with everything she had that she would die before that future happened.


	5. Chapter 5

The first time he’d left her, Erik had stuck to what he had said. She spent fourteen hours in the room underground, bound to the chair, going near crazy. When he returned, she’d sobbed and begged not to be left alone in there again, but he didn’t reply. She was compliant that night, disgusted with herself but trying to please him.

That was four weeks into her enslavement.

By the ninth week, she’d spent numerous hours locked the room, sobbing harder every time Erik released her, pleading with him to not put her in there again.

He hadn’t locked her up this time.

Instead, he kissed her on the forehead, promised to be home soon, and telling her to be a good girl. She’d stood on the porch, waving him off in the car, watching until the dust clouds were gone. Returning inside the house, Y/N paused, looking around. She wasn’t bound. He hadn’t bound her.

Was he testing her?

Was he going to return any moment to see what she’d done with her freedom. If he did, the punishment would surely be worse than being locked in the downstairs room. Rubbing her wrists at the memory of the cuffs, Y/N shuddered, and turned to the kitchen.

She’d wait and see. See if he came back. Make sure he saw her doing her chores, not running, not trying to find anything in the house. That way, his test would be pointless.

She waited.

And waited.

By dark, he still hadn’t returned, and Y/N went to bed, exhausting from a day of cleaning. Surely he’d be back the next morning, and then he’d be pleased to see her still there, waiting for him.

It never even occurred to her that he might not come back. It didn’t occur to her at all that he’d take days doing whatever it was he was doing. All Y/N could think was that he’d come back and find her still there, and he’d trust her, and wouldn’t hurt her.

When Erik came back six days later, he was tired but happy.

Y/N welcomed him with open arms and a smile, utterly broken.

*****

**_Four Months Later_ **

“That was delicious, Jim,” John muttered, a lazy smile on his face that was the result of too many whiskeys. “A pleasure as always.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Pastor Jim replied, standing up and gathering the plates. Dean was half asleep in his chair, while Sam just glowered at the table. “You should get these boys to bed, and get some rest yourself,” he told John, carrying the plates through to the kitchen. When he returned, he sat back down in time for Dean and Sam to be dismissed by their father.

They bade Jim goodnight and thanked him for dinner, before disappearing, leaving John and Jim alone. “Thanks for putting us up on short notice. It’s been a rough week.”

“Hey now, I’d never turn you or your boys away, John. Actually, it’s fortunate you turned up. Have you heard from Y/N recently?”

John shook his head, frowning. “No.”

Pastor Jim looked down at his hands. “The boys?” John shook his head again. “I haven’t spoken to her since she checked in after that dud hunt in Minnesota. She said she was heading to New York, but none of the hunters up there have seen her. I’ve been in touch with every safe house, I’ve roped the cops in, and… nothing.” He swallowed thickly. “That was about eight months ago and I’m worried.”

“Understandably,” John agreed, finding his own worry in Y/N’s whereabouts. She’d been the pastor’s ward for a long time as a child, and the boys were very fond of her. She wasn’t more than a couple of years older than Dean, and just as bullheaded. He’d suspected at one point that maybe her and Dean were a thing, but both denied anything was going on.

“That’s not the worst,” Jim sighed, distracting John from his thoughts. “That case in Minnesota? Bodies have started dropping again.”

“So you think -”

“Maybe whatever it was last time wasn’t so much of a dud as a serious thing. MO seems to have changed this time though - he’s going after men now. And he’s spreading further afield, almost through the whole state.”

John’s brow knit together. “Have you sent anyone up to check it out?”

Pastor Jim nodded, scratching the back of his head absently. “Yeah. Andrew went up a month ago. And now he’s gone too.”

“So it’s a hunt. And Y/N…”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Jim interrupted. “That girl is like a daughter to me, John, you know that. I’m going to cling to every piece of hope the Lord grants me. She’s strong, and she’s smart. She’s alive. I have to believe that.”

John nodded, but his head was telling him the opposite. There’s no way a hunter disappears for seven months and then turns up alive and well. But he knew Pastor Jim would break if he gave into that grief. Until they had proof, John would give his friend hope.

“I’ll head up there with the boys tomorrow,” John instructed the pastor, leaning back in his seat. “We’ll figure out what’s going on and find Y/N.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Jim replied, seemingly a little lightened by John’s words.

John just wished he could believe himself.

*****

“Thank you, officer,” Dean said, strutting away in his suit towards where John was waiting in the Impala, the headlights almost blinding in the failing light. Neither man spoke until they were two blocks away, heading to pick Sam up from where he’d been interviewing what witnesses they could find.

“So, the guy remembers Y/N from when she was here. But she left town, and the killings stopped, so they figured she’d arrested whoever did it.”

John nodded, pulling the car into the parking lot outside the local high school - one of the missing men was a teacher there. At the iron railings, there was a shrine of flowers, with messages - “We love you Coach Wilson” - and photos of the strapping man in his early thirties. Sam jogged towards them, climbing into the back of the car.

“So get this - Coach Wilson was a bodybuilder, as well as the football coach. He was a sporting hero - Olympic medallist. And someone managed to overpower him?” Sam shook his head with a scoff.

“Doesn’t sound like a regular human would have done the job,” John agreed, glancing at Dean. “Did you get anything else?”

“Yeah, the officer mentioned something else. Y/N said she was checking out a lead that they thought was fake. Something about funny colored lights and odd smells coming from a house on the back road out of town.”

“Sulphur?” Sam offered, but Dean shook his head.

“Burnt meat. But no fire for miles. No demon omens either,” Dean undid his tie, sighing in frustration. “So if that was the last place she was heading -”

John nodded, putting his foot down. “Then that’s where we’re going.” He moved the Impala across the street, into the right lane, before turning off towards the industrial district of the town. Dean watched out of the window as the streets flashed by, chewing on his lip thoughtfully. “We’re gonna find her, Dean,” John murmured, sparing his son a brief glance.

“You know, that doesn’t work as well on me as it does on Pastor Jim,” Dean remarked, looking over at his father. “You know as well as I do… hunters don’t turn up alive and well after seven months.” HIs eyes drifted back to the scenery as shops and homes became warehouses and storage units.

No one else said anything as they drove along the road that became less and less populated until it was mostly trees. Nestled among them, set back from the road with a neatly trimmed lawn, was a two-story house.

“Not creepy at all,” Dean muttered before his eyes picked up on something in the dark. There were no lights on in the house, but the glint of the Impala’s headlights shone over red paint and chrome, bitten by fire. “Dad -” he choked, pointing. John’s eyes focused on the car, his frown deepening by the second. “That’s Y/N’s Beamer.”

The Impala had barely stopped when Dean and Sam both jumped out of the car, guns drawn and on the alert. John threw the parking brake on, climbing out to follow his sons, watching them scout the area. “No one’s here,” John said, slowly, approaching the vehicle and placing one hand on the burned out shell. “Car’s been like this for a while.”

“Why leave it here?” Sam asked, a confused expression on his face. “Surely they’d know we’d come if…”

“Maybe they figured she didn’t have anyone,” Dean spat, his cheeks red with anger. “Burnt out car, stolen plates. Weapons in the trunk.” He nodded his head towards the rear of the car, and Sam, being closest, reached down and popped the button. The trunk mechanism shuddered and failed, and the youngest Winchester slid his hand underneath the rim, wincing when rust shredded through his skin.

With one sharp tug, the trunk split and cracked open, slowly creaking upwards until the contents were visible. Inside, the flames had caused less damage, but enough to melt plastic and burn boxes. Ammunition and guns were scattered all over the place, uncontained, with religious relics and artifacts dusted over. Some of them hadn’t survived - a plastic rosary was melted into the handle of a sawn-off shotgun, making a gooey red pattern over the butt.

“She left everything,” Sam muttered, as Dean and John joined him either side. “Her clothes, ID, guns -” he paused, frowning, “- except the Anaconda.” Dean’s head jerked up, and he reached in, rifling through the pile and coming up empty of the pistol he’d got Y/N for her birthday ten years before. John had helped, contacting an old friend and getting the custom designed Colt Anaconda six-shot revolver made specifically for Y/N. She’d loved the gift, and always had it with her.

“She went inside,” John surmised, turning away from the trunk. Sam, Dean, scope the back out. I’m gonna go in the front door.” Dean and Sam both nodded in agreement, swiftly and silently disappearing out of sight. John knew that if anyone was there, they would have seen the lights of the Impala, and the chances are they were long gone.

Creeping up onto the front stoop, John tried the handle, finding the door locked as expected. In ten seconds, he had the lock picked and the door opening slowly and as quietly as he could. His feet met a plush rug, and he looked down, fishing his flashlight out of his pocket.

The rug was clean, well-kempt and a hideous red color. John frowned, lifting the light to inspect the rest of his surroundings. He’d thought it odd that the outside of the house was so well kept, and what he saw in front of him was even more surprising.

Nice furnishings, a bowl of plastic fruit on an ornate coffee table. Photos hanging on the wall of majestic horse herds and landscapes in bright colors. What threw the scene was the absolute lack of anything personal. It was like a showhome.

John continued through the house, checking the downstairs rooms first. He checked in the kitchen, finding no food or anything in any of the cupboards and the refrigerator was warm. As he was debating whether to go down to the basement first or upstairs, Sam and Dean bundled through the back door, guns dropping as soon as they saw their father.

“Dad -” Dean started, pointing behind him. “That yard is weird as hell. The flowers are all plastic. The grass isn’t real!”

“Same as this place. It’s like a model.” John looked around the sparse kitchen, nodding as he decided what was next. “Sam, you take upstairs. Dean and I will check out the basement.” Sam darted off, and Dean looked at John, who gestured to the basement door.

It was locked, unsurprisingly, and Dean dropped down, fishing out his tools as John kept watch. The lock was difficult to crack, and Dean cursed at it several times before getting it open. When he swept it wide, raising his gun, there was nothing but blackness, and steps disappearing down.

“After you?” Dean suggested, and John immediately cuffed him around the back of the head in irritation. “Yeah, yeah,” Dean replied, smirking at the predictable response. John smiled, following his son down the stairs with his weapon raised.

There was nothing for a few seconds, then John’s flashlight illuminated markings on the walls. They were in a language neither of them had ever seen, archaic in design, stretching across the beams on the ceiling. John frowned, and Dean grunted.

“Witch?”

“Maybe,” John acknowledged, and they continued down.

The basement had a concrete floor, and the chill in the air was immediate. Dean shivered, and John moved past him, looking down the hallway that resembled a prison more than the cellar of a showhome. There were three doors, each solid wood, and John strode to the first one, trying the lock. It opened under his touch, swinging to reveal a room with nothing in it.

The second room’s door opened in the same manner, and this room was not empty. Chains on the walls were slick with fresh blood, and there were instruments scattered on a table that John didn’t even want to think about. In the middle of the room, there was a charred mark, burned into the shape of a human body.

“Witch,” Dean repeated, and John groaned his agreement. He hated witches. “Think this was our coach?”

John nodded, looking around. “Let’s check that last room.”

They left the room, turning back into the hallway and down to the last door. This one was locked, and Dean grabbed his lockpick again, but John grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Listen,” he whispered, and both of them stilled. From inside the room, muffled by the door, there was a keening sound. The words weren’t easy to make out, but one of them was “stop”, another “please” - someone was pleading inside.

Dean moved, picking the lock efficiently, and they opened the door, both of them reeling back at the smell. Inside, a naked man in his thirties, well built with dark skin and a shaved head, was hanging by thick chains attached to the ceiling. Whatever had happened to him, he’d clearly been tortured. He was crying, drooling, begging over and over.

“Hey,” Dean said, softly, trying to get the guy’s attention. There was no reply. “Hey,” Dean snapped, a little harsher this time, clicking his fingers in front of the guys face.

“Dean,” John murmured, sighing heavily. “He’s too far gone.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, frowning.

“I mean, he’s snapped. If he gets out of here, he’ll spend the rest of his life in a padded cell,” John walked around the guy, noticing all the marks on his body. They were all fresh, so he’d only been here a few days. “Whatever did this to him in such a short time - we need to stop it.”

The man cried out, begging harder, and Dean backed away.

John touched his shoulder, making him jump. “We’ll get Sam and stake out. I don’t think this thing likes leaving bodies, so if we wait, it might come back.” Dean was staring at the guy now, and John knew exactly what he was thinking. “I hope she didn’t go through this either, son.”

Dean nodded slowly, turning and walking away. John gave the poor man one last look, then retreated, closing and locking the door again. He made sure the other doors were shut, and followed Dean upstairs, where he stood with Sam. “More of the same upstairs,” Sam commented, running a hand through his growing hair. “Dean said you found a guy.”

“Yeah,” John nodded, glancing at Dean. “Beyond saving.”

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Dean touched his arm gently. “Dude, he’s… he’s not gonna have any quality of life if he gets free. We gotta stop this thing.” The fight went out of Sam, and he nodded. John moved to the front door, with his boys in tow, and headed back to the car.

“We’ll bunk down in the car for tonight,” John called back. “If we park her up in the woods with a view of the house, hopefully we can catch this fucker.”


	6. Chapter 6

The sun rose eight hours later, and there was nothing. The Winchesters slept in shifts, one watching, two resting, and by the time the sun was over the treeline, Dean’s stomach was growling loudly.

“There are protein bars in the trunk,” John grunted, side-eyeing his eldest. “Grab one.”

Dean grunted, wishing for a burger more than anything else, but begrudgingly, he retrieved the bars, taking one for each of them. Sam woke up as Dean tossed the bar onto his chest, and scowled at his brother. “Wakey wakey,” he taunted, and Sam gave him the finger.

John’s eyes were still trained on the house. “I’m gonna put this to the vote - either this guy is gettin’ sloppy, or he’s coming back. Now, we can stay here, wait for him, and we don’t know how long that’s gonna be, or we can leave, get supplies, and pray we ain’t missed him.”

Sam and Dean both looked at each other, and nodded in tandem. “Stay. These protein bars ain’t so bad. There’s water in the trunk,” Dean shrugged. “Not like we’ll die.” Sam grimaced, still thinking of the man they’d left behind in the basement.

It was noon before anything happened. A burgundy sedan ambled up onto the driveway of the house, parking up next to the burned out car. Dean sat up straight, tapping his father’s arm, and all three Winchesters watched a tall man get out of the vehicle. He was a broad guy, obviously able to hold his own in a fight, and his greyish eyes dropped to the burned shell of Y/N’s car.

The man sniffed, looking towards the house, and walking off, and all three voyeurs exhaled deeply. John glanced at Dean. “Shall we go in?”

“He looks like he could be trouble to take down. Looks like a regular guy though. What kind of witch looks like that?” Dean mumbled, leaning forward to try and see into the windows of the house. “We got any witch-killing bullets?”

“Dean, look -” Sam pointed, as the front door of the house opened, and the man returned to the front yard, wiping his hands together. Sparks of flame trickled off of his fingers, and he glanced towards the thick forest where they’d stashed the Impala, hiding themselves.

“Has he seen us?” Dean whispered, and John didn’t answer, watching the man stare around. Seconds crawled by until the man shrugged and headed back to his car, pulling away from the drive slowly. “Dad, we gotta follow him.”

John nodded, turning the ignition and pulling out cautiously onto the driveway, just in time to see the burgundy sedan disappear off away from town.

Bright sunshine was on their side as they drove away from the lowering orb. The light would shield them from the rear view mirrors of the other car, but they had no idea where he was headed. Sam followed their route with a map, frowning when they took a left. “This road doesn’t lead anywhere,” he muttered. “It’s about four miles and then nothing.”

John frowned, slowing the car. “So, we need to be smart about this. If he’s got a place out here, then we’re gonna out ourselves while it’s still light.” He pulled the Impala to the side of the dusty road, turning the engine off. “We wait. When it’s getting dark, we’ll walk up to the house. Surround it, take a different entrance each.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Dean asked doubt on his face.

“There’s three of us, one of him. Odds in our favor.” John wished he could believe his own words. But there was a creature that needed killing, and they were going to get the job done.

Dean looked up ahead, watching the road curve over the land. “Do you think Y/N might be out there?” he whispered, his eyes shining. The thought that one of his oldest and most constant friends was dead was already plaguing him, and he wanted this guy to pay. “At least…”

“Don’t say it,” Sam pleaded, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna think about bodies right now.”

John was silent, simply staring at the road. Dusk would be slow to come, but he was ready to take this thing out. Whatever it took.

*****

When Erik arrived home, Y/N was watching a show on the television he’d allowed her to have. It was locked to certain channels, but she quite enjoyed watching nature documentaries and cooking shows. Something always niggled at the back of her mind, reminding her of binge-worthy series but good wives don’t watch that sort of thing.

Erik was in a strange mood from the second he walked through the door. Y/N stood up to greet him, turning the television off to give him her full attention. “Not now, Y/N,” he snapped, pushing her away and she cowered back. He paused, realizing he’d scared her, and pulled her against him. “I have to prepare. It’s nearly nighttime, and this must be perfect.”

Y/N blinked, nodding obediently. Erik smiled and released her, placing a hand on the small of her back to encourage her towards the stairs.

“You can go to bed,” he insisted, and Y/N frowned, opening her mouth to argue. “Y/N. You do as you are told, like a good wife, remember?” She nodded, still unsure, and his face twisted in irritation. “Go to bed,” he ordered, his voice sharp, and Y/N flinched, feeling his control slip over her.

She turned without question and headed up the stairs, wondering what he would do to punish her for this.

Erik watched her leave, scowling at her. It was probably better if she remained as a puppet for now - he needed to keep the three hunters on his tail in check. Discovering their presence at the house had been surprising - he’d kept his selections brief and without evidence.

Obviously they knew her, and knew her car. Maybe he hadn’t been as careful as he thought. He’d just been so consumed with finding the strongest…

Hunters…

Y/N was a hunter. So it would make sense she’d need a hunter’s seed to ensure conception. The men he’d used so far had been no good, even with the assistance of magical wards and fertility spells. He should have known they wouldn’t work; they hadn’t done anything for him.

He needed to take these three alive, and see if they were strong enough to produce a good vessel.

Night fell, and Erik waited in the soft light of the sitting room. He felt his wards break as the three men approached, and a smile slowly dragged across his face. The eldest one was coming up to the front door. One of the younger men was at the back door, and another was coming in through the garage.

He didn’t move. The lock on the front door jiggled, and the door swung open to reveal a hulking hunter with grim determination on his face and shotgun in his hands. Erik kept on smiling, waiting for the man to enter. The hunter spotted him, aiming his gun, only to find it out of his hands and across the room. His body went the opposite way, and he crashed against the wall by the fireplace with a thud.

He took too long to get up, and Erik sighed, rolling his eyes. Dropping down to one knee, he placed a hand on the back of the man’s neck, and his body jerked and spasmed as the spell took hold. With his victim out cold, Erik turned from him, heading into the kitchen.

The man was young, maybe a few years younger than his beloved Y/N. He held a sawn-off shotgun in his hands, and swung it round to meet Erik’s grinning face. He never made the shot. The gun landed across the room, and the young man yelled out, only to find his voice cut off by Erik’s hand around his throat. Despite them being of similar height, it wasn’t hard for the witch to lift the hunter off of the ground, smiling as his spell started to stop the boy’s struggles.

“Let him go!” came a voice, the third hunter, stood in the doorway with a rifle aimed at his back. Erik turned his head, then released Dean, who crumpled into a heap on the floor. “Dean!” the third hunter cried, but Dean didn’t respond.

“Sammy.”

Sam turned, seeing his father lumber towards him, and Erik smiled. “Subdue him,” he ordered, and John went for his youngest son. The boy had no time to fight back, yelling out as the older man took him down to the floor, pinning him down as Erik approached.

Dean was waking up behind him, getting to his feet and simply watching as Erik bent down, placing his hand on the back of Sam’s neck, and the younger man screamed and struggled harder, before going limp in his father’s arms.

“Well, that went rather well,” Erik commented, smiling his wolf smile as the three hunters fell under his complete control. All three of them were prisoners in their own bodies and would be until Erik deemed them useless.

Hopefully, by then, he wouldn’t have to worry.

*****

“Wake up, my love.”

Erik’s voice lulled her from her sleep, and she frowned, trying to roll over but finding herself confined to her body. Panic surged through her - what had she done wrong? “I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered, and Erik’s face twisted in confusion before he remembered the night before.

“Do not worry,” he assured her, and Y/N soared inside, happy that she hadn’t angered him. Erik smiled his wolf smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Now, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” She nodded eagerly, wondering what it was he wanted. “We have a guest.”

She tilted her head as Erik pulled her to her feet. He pointed at her closet, and Y/N swiftly went over to it, plucking one of her black dresses and slipping it over her nude body. Erik was waiting, still smiling, and when she was ready, he took her hand and led her down the stairs, and out towards the underground bunker.

Y/N knew something had changed when she saw her room’s door shut. She hadn’t been in there in weeks, although she’d spent time in some of the other play rooms. Although he couldn’t breed her himself, Erik took great pleasure in trying anyway.

“I believe you know them,” he continued, leading her towards the furthest door, the one to her room. She started to shake, frightened that he was punishing her after all, but Erik kept a tight hold of her, opening the door and dragging her inside. When he let her go, she stopped, unsure of him, until he stepped to the side and showed her their “guest”.

_ Dean _ .

There was a spark in her head, her old self, waking up like she’d been sleeping, but Erik’s hand on her neck stopped all thought. He still had control of her. “You know him, my love?”

Dean dragged his head up, looking at her through bleary eyes that cleared instantly with recognition. “Y/N?” he rasped, tugging at his restraints. The old chair was gone, and Dean was fastened to a table that tilted upwards. He was naked, and Y/N blushed at the sight of him. “Y/N!” he repeated, shouting it this time. “You’re alive, you’re -”

“Silence,” Erik commanded. “Y/N. On your knees.” Y/N nodded, dropping down, and Erik grinned at Dean. “This is my wife, Dean. As you can see, she is very well trained.” Y/N’s fingers were tugging at his belt, and Erik didn’t stop her as she freed his cock and took it between her fingers, pumping him to full hardness. A groan spilled from his lips as Y/N started to suck him off, running her tongue over the thick ridge of his crown, taking him down far enough to bulge out her throat.

Dean watched with wide eyes, and anger twisted his mouth. His struggles started, and Erik simply laughed. “You fucking sick bastard,” Dean growled, pulling and tugging at the cuffs holding him in place. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“She’s the perfect little wife, my cock hungry slut,” Erik complimented, patting Y/N’s head as if she were a dog. She didn’t respond to the touch, bobbing up and down on his cock until he stopped her, directing her to Dean. “Look what you’re doing to him, my love.”

The younger man’s cock was hard and leaking, although he turned his head from the scene before him, trying to control his actions. “You’re fucking sick,” he ground out, refusing to acknowledge his body’s reaction to watching Y/N licking the thick cock in her palm.

Erik laughed loudly again, tucking his cock back into his pants and stalking over to Dean, leaving Y/N on the floor behind him. “Maybe you’ll suck cock as well as she does,” Erik purred, gripping Dean’s cock with one meaty fist, dragging his thumb over the top. “Tell me, Dean,” he continued, as the younger man struggled, despite the grip on his dick. “Do you bend over like a good little bitch?”

Dean snarled, snapping his teeth at Erik’s face. The man let go of his cock, turning back to Y/N. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Dean screamed, fighting against his bonds harder and harder, with no better results each time. “You hear me? You’re fucking dead.”

His only response was laughter.


	7. Chapter 7

He’d been lying there for hours, still trying to escape until exhaustion made his body give out. His earlier erection had dwindled, while his shame remained, and he couldn’t understand how the guy had managed to twist Y/N.

She’d always been so strong, and so… beautiful. Seeing her like a pet, sucking dick on command -

His erection stirred again and Dean groaned loudly, dropping his head onto the table heavily. What was wrong with him?

“Dean?” His little brother’s voice caught his attention, and he reared his head upward, not seeing anything. “Dean, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Sammy,” Dean called, relieved to hear Sam’s voice. “You okay?”

“I’m in a room. Chained up. You okay?”

Dean chuckled humorlessly, looking down at his nude, and quite frankly, cold body. “I’ve had better days. Where’s Dad? You still got that spell on you?” There was a second where he didn’t hear anything, and he started to wonder if he’d gone mad.

“No. I can move my arms. What did he do to us?”

There was a heavy sigh before Dean tried to respond, only to be cut off by a third voice. “Son of a bitch!” A smile broke out on his face as he recognized his angry father’s tone. “Boys?”

“We’re here,” Dean and Sam chorused.

“You locked down?” John asked, and Dean called back an affirmative. “Shit. This ain’t good. What the fuck was that spell?”

“I felt like a puppet,” Dean replied, pulling at his restraints again. “Y/N’s alive. She’s here.” There was a pause as he considered telling them what he’d seen. “He’s got her under some sort of spell. Acting like… well, he put on a little show, and I think if Y/N doesn’t kill him before me, I’ll be surprised.”

“What did -” Sam started, before Dean shook his head.

“You don’t wanna know, Sammy,” he insisted. “We need to figure out how to get out of here before -”

His words were cut off by the sound of a door opening, and he fell silent. Heavy footsteps thudded down the steps towards the rooms, and Dean’s door opened, revealing their captor. The man smiled a cruel, twisted smile and Dean felt crisp fear in his chest, making his heart thunder. “So, Daddy and little brother are awake,” the man drawled, approaching Dean slowly. “I didn’t want them to miss the first breeding.”

“What?” Dean snarled, as the man drew closer.

“Hmmm, I’ve had such fun these past few weeks,” the man grinned, reached out to touch Dean’s chest. “But you are one of the finest specimens I’ve ever seen. Certainly potent. You’ll make a perfect vessel.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, glaring at the man. “I’m not gonna be anyone’s fucking meat suit,” he growled out, but the man just laughed. “Get fucked, you black-eyed douche.”

“Oh, I’m not a demon,” his captor replied, shrugging as he moved across the room, approaching a table of instruments Dean had been trying not to acknowledge. “I’m much, much worse.” He waved his hand over the tools, deciding on one and picking it up. It looked like a pump, and Dean’s eyes widened; his nether clenched in concern. “Now,” the man started, “this is the fun part.”

The bed moved backward until Dean was flat on his back, and he struggled hard, finding renewed strength in the face of what he was imagining. His captor loomed over him, that wolf smile searing into Dean’s memory, his free hand nimbly undoing the ankle restraints.

Dean instantly went to kick out, but he couldn’t move.

“Lift your knees to your chest,” the man commanded, and Dean obeyed, panic flooding him as his legs lifted as far as they could, the strain on his muscles echoing through his nerves. “Oh, you are a pretty boy,” his captor commented, reaching in to fondle his balls. Dean tried to arch, to get away from the touch, but nothing happened. He was helpless.

“Don’t,” he begged, sounding broken and helpless.

“Oh, feel free to scream,” the man answered, sneering as he dragged Dean’s soft cock from between his legs, stroking it until it responded to the stimulation. Dean groaned, wanting it to stop; he didn’t want the forced pleasure. “That’s better,” his tormentor murmured, his eyes flashing at the thick, long cock in his palm. “Such a big boy. Maybe I’ll let you breed her properly, see how that thick cock splits her open. I bet you’d make her scream.”

“You’re a fucking psycho!” Dean screamed, hearing his father and brother call out for him.

Sam’s cry was a simple, plaintive “Dean!”.

“What the fuck are you doing?” John’s demand was in a voice full of threat and violence.

Dean started to cry.

Fingers held his cock fast as his captor fastened the device over his cock, securing it around his balls. He turned away for a moment, retrieving something else from the table. A small bottle of lube, and Dean screamed again.

“You make sure pretty sounds,” the man cooed, coating one finger in lube. “Now, while I would love to see how tight your little boy cunt is around my cock -” He pressed his finger against Dean’s hole and Dean wailed. In the distance, he could hear John shouting, promising violence and death. The finger inched in, and the man groaned. “- this is all business,” he finished. “I need your sperm, and I need it quickly.”

His finger pushed in all the way, and Dean cried out, feeling weak and helpless, due to his family’s yelled protests and threats of death. The digit brushed against Dean’s prostate and his cock jumped inside the plastic tube. The man kept going, massaging his sweet spot, until it was too much, and Dean came sobbing, filling the tube with rope after rope of thick spunk.

The man stood back, withdrawing his finger, before palming his own cock through his pants. “Look at that beautiful little rosebud,” he murmured, fondling himself as he watched Dean’s body twitch through the remainder of his orgasm. “I would love to sink my dick into you, boy.”

Dean yelped when the man released his cock from it’s prison, and held up Dean’s spendings for inspection. “Please,” Dean sobbed, “please.”

His captor patted his thigh. “I’ll come back for you later,” he promised, turning away. “You can lower your legs.” The spell binding him didn’t budge, and Dean lay there, his cock sticky, his asshole sore, with tears running down to puddle under his head. He could hear his dad and brother calling for him, but he didn’t want to answer.

He had nothing to do but wait for the man to return.

*****

_ Dean. _

_ Dean. _

The name tasted familiar on her tongue, and she laid on the bed, still and naked, waiting for Erik’s return. The man in the cell, his face haunted her, and she tried to remember him. Things were fuzzy, like a film in the background when you’re studying, and everything before…

_ Before _ …

She turned her attention to her memories, and Dean’s face became clearer in her mind. Y/N saw him smiling, laughing, she saw them kissing and making love in the back of his father’s car. The colt, the one he’d given her for her birthday… she’d treasured that gift immensely.

What was happening to her?

She’d submitted to Erik, too easily; she’d given up everything. He’d used her in the most abhorrent of ways, and she’d cared about nothing but pleasing him. And now he had Dean. What about John and Sam? Erik had only mentioned one guest.

Sitting up from the bed, Y/N walked to the door, finding it unlocked, and opened it, peering out into the hall. Seeing nothing, she crept out, heading down the stairs, constantly on alert. Everything seemed clearer the further she went, and she was almost at the front door when the back door opened.

Erik stepped inside, holding something, and Y/N froze, feeling his control slip into place. “Where were you going?” he breathed, suddenly pressed up against her back. He was hard as steel against her bare ass, and Y/N felt disgust travel up her spine. “Oh, my love,” Erik purred, nuzzling into the back of her neck. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

Fear seized her heart and Erik kissed her shoulder, running his free hand down her arm. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, but nothing was obeying her - even her voice stuck in her throat.

“I think we should return upstairs, don’t you?” Slowly, Y/N nodded, turning and walking ahead of him back up the staircase. She could feel his eyes on her, and her mind rushed through thought after thought, wondering how much she’d broken his trust. If he never lifted the spell now…

Before she knew it, she was laying on the bed, while Erik moved around, preparing the syringe. It had become routine that this happened when he returned home, and she hated it - it was cold and sterile, and he spent ages touching her belly.

He was trying to impregnate her, she knew that much. Failure after failure over a period of months, and Y/N hadn’t even thought to ask where he was getting the semen from. She’d just washed his shirts and cooked his meals, and spread her legs for him when he asked... and when he didn’t.

She wanted to puke,

“Would you raise your legs for me, my love,” Erik asked, although there wasn’t an option to decline his request. Her body obeyed, and she couldn’t even wince when he inserted the syringe into her cunt, emptying the contents into her. She stayed still, even though her mind was racing, and the fear was making her heart pound heavily.

Erik lifted her hips and slid a pillow underneath, before lowering her legs. His hand sprawled over her lower belly, and warmth spread through her. His eyes closed and he murmured a chant under his breath, and Y/N couldn’t do anything but watch.

“Hmmm.” A frown deepened his brow, and Erik sat back, opening his eyes again. “No. It’s not going to work this way. You need to be bred properly.” She was unable to protest that line of thought, and Erik didn’t seem to care for her concern. “Maybe it will help you with your little crisis. You want to be a good wife, don’t you, Y/N?” Y/N nodded, answering his question and he smiled, patting her leg gently. “Our stallion won’t be up to much right now.” Erik glanced down at the still-present bulge in his pants. “But I don’t want to walk all the way downstairs when I have you right here.” His hand slid from her thigh to her cunt, and he pressed a single digit into her.

_ No, no, please - _ She could still feel Dean’s sticky cum inside her, but Erik didn’t seem to care as he climbed onto the bed, and pushed between her thighs. He gave her no prep, and no warning, sliding into her with a grunt.

Tears fell from her eyes for a few seconds, before she retreated into her own mind. Being a good wife was easier. She didn’t have to feel it that way.


	8. Chapter 8

Y/N wasn’t sure if she’d slept or not, but when she became consciously aware of her surroundings, it was with a heavy, sweating weight on top of her, and stinging pain. Daylight filtered in through the windows, and she knew some time had passed - at least a few hours.

Erik was fucking her ass, splitting her open with each thrust, and the pain was almost unbearable. He hadn’t prepped her. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but lay there and take his brutal strokes, tears escaping from her eyes as he kept going and going.

When he finally came, he left her slumped on the bed, disappearing into the bathroom without a word. For long minutes, Y/N remained on the bed, ass in the air, cum dripping down her thighs, not able to do anything but sob into the pillow under her face. Erik returned from the bathroom, fully dressed, and tossed a towel towards her. “Get cleaned up. Come downstairs.”

The order was instant, and Y/N got up, limping to the bathroom and leaving the door open. Erik watched her for a moment, before leaving the room, and leaving her to sob in the bathroom.

She came downstairs ten minutes later, and Erik was preparing breakfast. He slid a slice of toast on a plate towards her. “Eat. We have a busy day.”

The question was on her mind, but she couldn’t voice it; instead, she did as he told her, forcing the dry toast down. Erik handed her a glass of water, which she drank dutifully, waiting for him to finish his meal. He ate quickly, not looking at her, and Y/N wilted inside.

She’d disappointed him again.

He finished, standing up and putting the plates in the sink. Normally, she would clean up straight away after, but his binding spell held her fast until he commanded her to follow him outside. It was a warm day, and she didn’t lament the lack of clothing - she’d gotten a little more comfortable with her nudity, despite the situation.

She waited by the bunker door as Erik opened it, gesturing for her to go in ahead. Her bare feet made no sound on the floor, but Erik’s shoes clattered loudly against the concrete, following her down the steps and into the corridor. He placed his hand on her arm, leading her to the furthest room, where Dean was still strapped to the table, shivering from his nudity. Y/N couldn’t avert her eyes, and stood obediently by the door as Erik walked around the contained hunter.

“Now,  _ Dean _ ,” he started, his wolf smile making Dean’s eyes widen. “You’re probably going to enjoy this. I know I would. She’s quite a spectacle when she’s on top.” Y/N swallowed, stepping forward when Erik motioned to her. His hand cupped her cheek, a thumb swiping over the tear tracks still on her face. “You be a good girl, Y/N. You know what we need from him.”

She nodded, trying to stop fresh tears, and Erik assisted her to the table, as Dean stared in horror. “No, please, don’t -” he begged, watching Y/N climb up and straddle his thighs. Her fingers encircled his flaccid cock, and Dean groaned, unable to prevent the reaction of his body to her warm touch. “Y/N, please -”

His pleas went unheard from his point of view, but inside, Y/N was screaming, willing her body not to respond. Erik stood back, watching and smiling as she worked Dean to full hardness. She used her other hand to touch herself, growing wet at the stimulation.

The second she sank down onto Dean, letting him fill her to the brim, Erik clapped in amusement, and Dean groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. Another plea left his lips, whispered, but Y/N didn’t respond. She locked her eyes on his when she started to move, silently moving up and down on his body.

Erik frowned, noticing how quiet she was, and he moved close enough to touch her shoulder, dragging her eyes to him. “Tell him how much you’re enjoying it,” he murmured, smirking, and Y/N felt sick to her stomach. “You’ve fucked him before, haven’t you, my love?” Her cheeks went red, and Erik chuckled, patting her ass. “Be a good girl,” he reminded.

“Yes, sir,” she muttered in reply, looking back to Dean. Erik cleared his throat, and Y/N closed her eyes for a second, grateful to at least have a modicum of control over the small things. She swallowed, opening her eyes again to fix them on Dean’s watery green orbs. “Feels so good, Dean,” she purred, running her hands over his chest. He grunted, and she squeezed her inner muscles, making him groan loudly.

“Isn’t she magnificent?” Erik commented, walking around the table as she rode the captive hunter. Dean’s eyes followed him, alternating between flinching and glaring. “She was the best I ever found. Such a creature of power. Perfect in every way.” He leaned over, twisting one of Y/N’s nipples and she whimpered in response. “She’ll let you do anything, you know. There’s not a part of her I haven’t taken and owned. You should be grateful you’re getting this.”

Dean ground his teeth together, his eyes flickering back to Y/N, who was bouncing on his cock in a way he couldn’t ignore. It felt amazing, and at the same time, it was the worst thing he’d ever experienced. She was the one who’d always slipped through his fingers, the one he’d always thought he end up with.

Now she was an instrument for his torture, and he didn’t see a way out.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Dean spat, his words entirely for Erik, but he saw the hurt in Y/N’s eyes. She closed them, focusing on what she had been told to do. Their captor chuckled again, stroking Y/N’s face as she kept moving.

“Would you like to feel her cum, Dean?”

“Screw you,” was the only response he got.

“Y/N,” Erik whispered, catching her attention, and she opened her eyes to look at him, her bottom lip quivering. “Make yourself cum, my love.”

She didn’t want to. She wanted nothing less than to run, to escape this hell. She didn’t want to make herself cum, and she didn’t want to make Dean cum either.

But Erik’s command was too heavy to ignore. Y/N rolled her hips, changing the angle to give the length of Dean’s cock more friction, and he cried out loudly. Her whimpers joined his noises, and within minutes, Y/N let go, cumming hard, and dragging him down with her.

Before she could process the feeling of warmth deep in her belly, Erik was there, pressing his hand low against her. Dean gasped, trying to recover, not noticing what was going on until Y/N was suddenly lifted from him. She cried out, and Dean called for her, only to have the door slammed on him.

He shouted, yelling for her, demanding to know what was going on.

But there was nothing.

*****

Y/N couldn’t catch her breath as Erik dragged her out of the cell, shutting the door with more force than was necessary. He was smiling, which threw her off, and when he unlocked one of the other doors, shoving her inside, she was completely lost.

“I said we had a busy day,” Erik announced, pushing her to the floor where she scraped her knees. Dean’s cum was leaking down her thigh, and she couldn’t figure out what was going on until she saw Sam in the corner of the cell, naked like his brother. He didn’t move, but his eyes were full of rage, and Erik grinned at him.

“Erik?” Y/N asked, looking up at him. “What’s -”

“Three potent hunters,” he interrupted, and Y/N’s eyes went wide. He had Dean, Sam  _ and _ John? “Now, Sam here, is going to fuck you full, while I deal with his brother. Aren’t you Sam?”

“We’re gonna kill you,” Sam threatened, his voice low, but Erik only laughed. He saw no threat in hunters, and Sam’s low words didn’t do anything except  amuse him.

“Mr Winchester, I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re kinda famous. And exactly what I need.” Erik reached down, grabbing Y/N’s arm and pushing her towards him. Sam didn’t move - he couldn’t. “Now, you’re going to fuck Y/N until I’m satisfied.” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow. “Or until you are. Get up.” Sam obeyed, visibly enraged by the way the man could control him.

Y/N shuddered as Sam approached her, and her eyes flew to Erik, who stood grinning, the expression just as terrifying as the first time she’d seen it. She was sticky and uncomfortable, sore everywhere - she didn’t understand why he was making her do this right away.

“Have fun,” Erik commanded, as Sam pushed her against the wall, ignoring her shriek.

“No, no, no, please -” The door closed on her pleas, and Sam’s hands slid down her back, cupping her ass. “Sam, please -”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears clinging to his lashes. “I can’t stop it. I’m trying but -” He lifted her up easily, wrapping her legs around his waist. His cock was hard and twitching, and she looked down, watching him line up and slide into her.

It hurt - Sam was bigger than Dean, thicker definitely, and she was already sore. She cried out, and Sam winced, but he still didn’t stop, picking up and immediate rhythm. Every thrust was accompanied by a grunted sorry, and all Y/N could do was feel the scrape of the wall against her back as he fucked her hard.

Dean’s spendings eased Sam’s strokes, and Y/N closed her eyes when she realized she was going to climax again. Sam groaned as her body tightened around him, and he didn’t last longer than another three seconds. He stepped away, panting, and Y/N dropped like a stone. Sam took only a second before he was pinning her down again, his huge frame covering hers.

Not once did he kiss her, simply sliding back into her abused cunt until she was screaming and crying. He wasn’t unaffected - the apologies stopped, but his own tears kept flowing.

Erik listened from the other side of the door, palming his cock through his pants. Turning back to the door that Dean was behind, he smiled. By the end of the day, he would have what he needed - no harm in a little fun while he waited.


	9. Chapter 9

John wanted to cover his ears. He wanted to disappear and sink into the wall. Y/N’s cries had stopped a while ago, but he could still hear them, mixing with Dean’s screams in his head, echoing through his soul. He’d failed them all - as a father, a friend and a hunter. Sitting naked in his prison, unable to move unless the witch commanded it - he had to figure this out.

Everything went silent, and John’s eyes were on the door. There was a clank as a door was closed, and another opened, before Sam shouted something, and John’s heart thundered in his chest.

His cell door swung open, and his captor strode in, Y/N in his grasp. She was bruised, sobbing, and John’s first instinct was to sweep in to her rescue.

Nothing happened.

“You’ve been such a good girl, Y/N,” the man purred, kissing her cheek. She flinched, her eyes flooded with fear, and John saw the glistening slick on her thighs. He felt the shudder up his spine, unable to express his disgust, so he remained silent. “And I think our eldest hunter might be a little softer with you than his son was.”

Y/N didn’t protest as the man pushed her forward, patting her rear. “Erik, please,” she croaked, and John narrowed his eyes. It was always handy to put a name to a face. Erik grinned at him, the expression cold and predatory.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Go to him. He’ll be gentle with you, won’t you John?”

John wanted to tell him to go to hell, to get fucked, that he was going to destroy him, but he remained stoic, nodding at the question, although he didn’t want to. Y/N was trembling, like she couldn’t stop, and John didn’t want to think about the bruises and scrapes he could see on her skin.

Erik’s grin widened, and he left the room. John found himself able to move, relief sweeping through him, and he didn’t pay any attention to his own nudity. He got to his feet, taking Y/N into his arms and holding her tightly as she started to sob hard.

“Sssh, I got you, sweetheart.”

“H-he’s watching,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest. “If we don’t… he’s gonna punish us.” John sighed, kissing the top of her head. “You don’t know what he’s like John-” Her words were tinged with hysteria and she pulled back to look up at him. “- he’s a monster.”

“He’s hurt you?” John asked, his heart breaking when Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes darting to the side in shame. “Sweetheart, you gotta tell me -”

“No. No I don’t. I just wanna forget this and get out of here,” she was out of his hold now, hugging herself, and John couldn’t help but sweep his gaze over her. “John, we’re gonna have to -”

“How’s he gonna know?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “He’s a witch. Not just a witch. He’s strong and old and… there’s no way he won’t know if we don’t…” John’s thumb was running over her bottom lip, and Y/N stopped talking, letting him tilt her head up, before lowering his head to meet her halfway. The kiss was soft but firm, and she didn’t pull back, letting his hands drag her closer.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” John assured her, ending the kiss but not retreating out of her personal space. His fingers were dancing over her skin, fluttering from her face to her shoulders, like he couldn’t get enough of her. “Just let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

Y/N nodded, and tried to relax, letting John tug her closer. His arms were warm, and his body was firm against hers, and for the first time in months, she felt a little safer.

“John -”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing her temple as he pulled her down into his lap, cradling her and trying to get some warmth back into her skin. “You’re frozen.”

“Side effect of being naked,” she joked, then whimpered when she felt him hard against her thigh. John tensed, threading his hands through her messy hair, kissing her again. The distraction worked, and she relaxed a little more, returning his kisses with fervor. He kept it slow, building her up, being gentle with her, and Y/N appreciated it all the more.

He eased her down further against him, letting her take charge, and Y/N’s fingers circled around his length, pumping slowly until he was at full hardness. John stayed still, handing over control of the situation to her - if it had to be done, he was doing it on her terms.

Y/N sank down, biting her lip and not stopping until her ass was snug against his balls, and John couldn’t hold back the groan at her velvet warmth encasing him. For a moment, they remained still, her legs looped around his waist while she sat on his thighs, securing her hands behind his neck to give herself a little more balance.

The moment stretched on, nothing but the sound of their mingled breaths. John waited, trying not to think of when he’d last been close to a woman. Y/N was beautiful, a competent hunter, full of life and with an attitude that made her strong. He’d always hoped for the best for her.

It had nearly killed him to think she was dead.

It entirely destroyed him to know she’d spent months in captivity and no one had come for her.

Her hips twitched forward, and she let out a little whine that made his cock jump inside her. When she started to move, John shifted his hands backwards, putting all his weight on them, watching her ride him. His eyes were dark, and he could feel how sticky-slick she was around him. Her pussy was sucking him in deep, taking every inch, and he groaned when she rolled her lower half, increasing the friction between them.

“John…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, and she smiled, properly, although tears still clung to her lashes, threatening to fall. “I got you,” John added, prompting her to lean down and kiss him deeply.

He couldn’t hold on any longer. Y/N was riding him to his peak quicker than he’d thought, but she looked like she was close herself. She reared back, exposing the length of her naked body to his sight, and John didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful.

There was no cry when she climaxed, just squeezed tight eyes and the tiniest trickle of blood where she bit into her own lip.

John followed her over the edge with no hesitation, pumping into her until the strength left him.

Y/N collapsed onto him, and his arms shook for a second at the added weight. Her entire body shuddered with her sobs, and John closed his eyes, placing all his weight onto one hand so he could comfort her with the other. The cell was cold enough to make goosebumps spread over her skin, and he wished he could do something to help her.

He felt utterly useless.

*****

Erik didn’t come back straight away, which surprised both Y/N and John. She took the reprieve, and they remained silent the entire time - her huddled away in his strong arms.

When the door opened, Y/N held her breath, waiting for the comfort of John’s touch to be torn away. Erik’s thick voice cut through the haze of warmth to order her to her feet, and she tried to fight it, managing a split second of resistance, before she standing.

Her captor walked towards her, not even sparing a glance at John on the floor, past making sure the other man didn’t move. Y/N whimpered in her throat, as Erik placed his hand over her lower belly, closing his eyes.

They didn’t remain shut as long as the last time. The wolf smile curled his lips, and he pulled Y/N backwards, leaving John alone in the room.

Y/N moved obediently with Erik, wincing when her feet hit wet concrete. Apparently it had rained heavily since she’d been downstairs, and everything was soaked. The dark sky was still offering up a drizzle of rain, but Erik either didn’t notice or didn’t care. They kept moving, until they were inside the house and up the stairs.

“On the bed,” he ordered, and Y/N complied, laying flat. Her eyes focused upward, and the light flicked off, drenching the room in blackness. She held her breath, the only function she had control over now, while her emotions spun out of control.

Erik moved around the room, and small flickers of lights cast shadows and patterns on the white ceiling. He was muttering, low enough to make out the words she’d never understand. Then he was standing over her, reaching out and pouring something on her bare stomach. It trickled down over her waist, pooling in her navel, finding every nook and line of her flesh until it coated her middle.

It started to burn.

Agony laced through her, and her body convulsed without restraint. Erik continued, undeterred by her reaction, and the candlelight showed his true face. Nobody lived as long as he did without their souls twisting into something no longer human. His chants grew in volume, and he knew the moment it took, and Y/N screamed once, loudly, before blacking out, the candles all extinguishing at the same second.

Erik laid one hand on her clean belly, smiling his wolf smile.

It was going better than he expected.


	10. Chapter 10

John noticed when the spell wore thin. The air in his cell was charged with energy, and his entire body vibrated with it.

“Dad?” Sam’s hesitant shout made him lift his head, and he felt Erik’s flimsy control snap. “Dad… can you move?”

“Yeah. What about Dean?” John called back, waiting for a response. Everything was quiet for too long, and he frowned, climbing to his feet. “Sam?”

“He’s not answering.”

A cold feeling took hold of his chest, and John rested his head against the cell door, spreading his palms over the smooth surface. “Shit,” he ground out, wondering how long they had before Erik regained control. It was clear something was happening and John had to act quickly. He was lucky that Y/N had managed to literally spell it out for him with her finger on his skin. “Sam, there’s a charm on you somewhere. Under your skin. It’s how he controls us. Find it, tear it out.”

“What?”

John grunted, reaching for the back of his neck, where he remembered Erik touching him the first time. “Where did he first touch you, Sammy?” His finger nails weren’t sharp enough to dig through the skin.

“Er, my neck. Why?”

“Y/N told me when she was here - there’s a charm. Somewhere on us.” John winced as he scraped at his own skin, before looking around the cell for something sharp. Sam had fallen silent, and John could only hope that his son was busy freeing himself from the witch’s control.

There were no windows in the cell, which would have provided glass, and little else. John looked at the walls, wondering if any brickwork could come loose with force, but it didn’t look like there was any give in the concrete. His eyes drifted back to the door, and he narrowed them, debating the screws.

His fingers bled quickly as he worked a screw free, twisting it from its holding. It took longer than he would have liked, but the sharp point of the screw rewarded him with the ability to cut open his own neck. Blood coated his hands and dribbled down his back but he didn’t stop, not until his fingers brushed against something that sent static spiralling up his fingers.

The charm came free easily, and John held it in the palm of his hand, inspecting it. It was a small golden ball, engraved with three runes, like a bead or charm from a bracelet. As he stared it, the thing fizzled, and the runes disappeared.

He could only take that as a bad sign.

John looked at his next obstacle; the locked door. He still had the screw, which was not the best instrument for picking a lock, but it was the only thing he had to work with.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“I got it out. How do I get out of here?”

John gritted his teeth together as he worked at the lock with the too-big screw, trying not to lose his temper with it. Finally, the lock gave and clicked, and John immediately threw the door open, running to the adjoining cell. Now he knew where to poke it, the screw opened the door quickly, and Sam was outside. He was bruised and scratched, and looked exhausted, but they had to get to Dean.

Erik hadn’t locked his door. Maybe it was an oversight, but John wasn’t about to count his blessings. He also wouldn’t forget the state of Dean when he opened the door.

His eldest son was strapped to a medical-looking table, tilted vertically, and he was unconscious. Blood coated his thighs, and it was difficult to find a patch of untouched skin. There was a line of red marked from his chin, blood leaking from the side of his mouth. Sam wretched loudly, but John set his expression, marching towards Dean and getting to work on cutting him down.

“Sam, can you get out to the car?” John asked, and Sam nodded, staring at his brother. “Good. Get the first aid kit, and some clothes. I’ve got a feeling our witch friend is busy at the moment.”

Sam took off out of sight, while John freed Dean from the final restraint, cradling his son’s body as he got him down to the floor. He tried to ignore some of the wounds that covered the younger man, feeling grief at his own failure to protect them.

Dean’s eyes cracked open. John felt a spark of hope. Then Dean started to scream.

“Dean!” John called, trying to restrain him, but Dean was panicked like a wild animal, struggling and scratching at his father. “Dean, calm down, it’s me, it’s your Dad.” A fist collided with his jaw and he grunted, reeling back, and Dean froze.

His eyes cleared and he pushed up off of the floor. “Dad?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” John soothed, wiping the blood from his lip. “Dean -”

He wasn’t expecting the kid to burst into tears. Thick, bubbling tears that made him shake all over, and John was completely clueless as to what to do. Touching him had clearly been a bad idea but now...

Dean solved his dilemma for him, crawling closer into his father’s safety. He didn’t seem bothered by the nudity, but John was definitely desperate for a pair of pants. Being naked equalled being vulnerable, and John was not a vulnerable man.

“Dad!” Sam called, thundering down the hallway towards them, wearing a pair of pants. He had a duffel in his hands, and the first aid kit, and John breathed a sigh of relief. Dean was whimpering against him, seeming more like the terrified four year old he’d once ordered to keep Sam safe than the 27 year old hunter. The younger of his sons skidded to a halt, opening the duffel bag first. “Dean -” he reached out and Dean flinched, prompting John to hold up a hand. Sam’s face crumbled and tears clouded his vision. “What did he do to him?”

John shook his head, pointing to the clothes in the duffel. “He’ll feel better if he’s dressed,” he stated, keeping his voice even. “I need to get Y/N. Did you bring any guns?” Sam’s face paled as he handed his father a pair of combats and a shirt. “It’s okay. This is an out-there situation. You got the important things. But right now? I need you to take care of your brother and get him out to the car. I’m gonna go get Y/N.”

“Dad, he’s too powerful,” Sam begged, shaking his head. “He’s… he’s a monster.” There was real terror in Sam’s voice, and John paused - neither of his sons had ever sounded like this.

And it made him all the more desperate to kill the fucker with his bare hands.

“Don’t you worry,” John said, reaching over and cupping Sam’s cheek in his hand. “He’s touched my boys. And I’m not the sort of father to let that stand.”

*****

After, he’d dressed, John helped Sam get Dean clothed and up the steps, knowing it would be quicker with the two of them. Sam would take care of Dean’s wounds at the car, whilst John went and found Y/N.

Halfway across the backyard, a scream split the air, and John froze, looking up at the house. Sam dragged Dean fully onto his support, jerking his head towards the house. “Go. I’ll take care of Dean.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, abandoning his boys to sprint into the house, no longer requiring anything but his bare hands to take the asshole down. Sam would take care of Dean - John couldn’t afford to focus on anything but killing Erik.

It was easy to find the bedroom - the pulsing magic that electrified the air was heavy enough to slow John’s approach. He grimaced against the discomfort, pushing on towards the open door, where he could see Y/N’s legs on the bed, twisting and tensing with whatever Erik was doing to her. She screamed again, and John could barely contain his angry roar.

Either the witch didn’t hear him, or didn’t see him as a threat; John took advantage either way, forcing his body into the other man and knocking him to the floor. Almost instantly, Erik tried to use the spell to immobilize his assailant, but all he got was a satisfied smirk on John’s face.

“Y/N!” Erik shouted, and Y/N sat up, free of the magic he was working on her, but still under his spell. John couldn’t resist a glance up to check on her, and his eyes went wide when he saw the swell of her belly, the weight of her breasts. She looked exhausted, but she kept moving, worked by Erik’s power.

The witch took the distraction, shoving John off of him. John lost his balance, rolling into the wall with the force of the other man’s push. Erik scrambled his feet, dishevelled and snarling. The wolf wasn’t smiling any more. His hands curled in the carpet, and that was when John spotted it.

A ring, on his left ring finger. Small, ornate, with the same runes that were on the charm John had dug out of his neck.

Erik charged at him, and John automatically shielded himself, as the witch reigned blows down on him. It took everything he had to hold him off, and with his back to the floor, he had little room to fight back.

He had to get the ring off of the witch.

Fingers clawed near his face, and John grabbed at them, gaining the upper hand. He rolled them, so he was on top, punching Erik in the face with all the power he could muster. The witch fell back, limp for only a second, which was all John needed to lunge for the ring, tugging hard.

It didn’t move, and Erik laughed at him, trying to snatch his hand from John’s grasp. “You think it would be that easy?” he sneered, lifting his head from the floor.

The split second idea was ridiculous, but John had always run on instinct. He trusted his gut, he trusted his snap decisions - he had to.

He’d never bitten through bone before. It fucking hurt his teeth, and the foul taste of blood flooded his mouth as the digit came loose, clinging on with a few strings of muscle.

Erik was silent, eyes wide with horror, mouth slack with dismay.

John wrenched his head sideways, and the last bits of muscle snapped. He spat the finger out, the bloody mess splattering against the plush beige carpet, rolling a stain across the material before coming to a stop.

The witch started screaming.

Y/N stumbled forward, like someone had cut her strings, and John was immediately there, scooping her up into his arms, trying to ignore the round and very  _ real _ belly. Sam skidded into the doorway, gun in his hands as Erik writhed and screamed on the floor, pumping blood freely onto himself and the carpet. He was paling rapidly - but it would never be a fatal wound.

“Dad!” Sam had the gun aimed at Erik’s heart.

“No, Sam!” John yelled, just as his son squeezed the trigger, stopping him with a simple click to go. “No,” John continued. “It’s hers.” Sam’s face was a mask of confusion for a few moments before he relaxed and his father nodded. “A couple of days is nothing, Sam. Seven months…” Y/N stirred, opening her eyes.

“John?”

“I got you,” he whispered, stroking her face. She tensed at the gesture, and John removed his hand, noticing her discomfort.

Erik’s screams had dwindled to anguished moans, and Y/N’s gaze slid to him, her eyes narrowing. John helped her up, and Sam drew closer, offering out the gun. She looked at it, then back to Erik, as if she was trying to decide. “How many bullets are in there?” she asked, calmly and quietly.

“Six,” Sam replied, watching her fingers dance around the handle before taking hold of it. He relinquished his grasp and stepped back, just as John did the same. Y/N wobbled as she stood over Erik, watching him cling to his bloodied hand, kneeling in a pool of his own blood.

He started to chuckle, staring up at her with that wolf smile.

“You won’t do it,” he taunted. “You can’t do it. I gave y-”

Her aim was slightly off, and the bullet smashed into his left cheek, destroying bone, muscle and skin all in one, before exiting with a splat through the back of his skull.

It still wasn’t a fatal shot. Erik fell backwards, staining more of the carpet, which irrationally annoyed her because only a week ago she’d used that stupid heavy machine to clean it. The rage over such a simple thing among the horrific things he’d done to her, gave her a little more strength, and Y/N stepped over him, shooting him in the heart as she looked into his eyes.

The second he stopped breathing, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders, like all of his magic was taken away from her.

Just for good measure, she levelled the gun at his crotch and emptied the clip.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean was curled up in the back of the Impala when they finally left the house. They’d burned the witch’s body, and Sam said they should burn the house down, but John shook his head. The attention wasn’t needed, and out here, the fire would be seen for miles.

Instead, they ransacked the place for supplies and weapons, finding hordes of items taken from Eric’s victims over the years. He’d been at it for a long time - who knows how many people had met a fiery end at his fingertips.

Y/N was quiet, huddled under a blanket that still smelled like Erik and made her skin crawl, but it didn’t matter. He was dead and burning, nothing more than ash. There was no power over her anymore, but she was weighed down by something new.

John stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders, and she found herself leaning into him, accepting his comfort without question.

“We need to get you and Dean to a hospital,” John said quietly, kissing her temple. She didn’t argue - she didn’t say anything. “Need you checked out and safe.”

“I’m safe with you,” she replied, closing her eyes to the flames of the burning corpse and letting John walk her away towards the car. Sam was in the front passenger seat, his head tipped back onto the seat; he wasn’t quiet asleep, but the exhaustion was clear.

Y/N climbed into the back seat, watching Dean. She felt nausea at what she’d done to him, and no matter how much she reasoned that she’d been forced, it didn’t make her feel any better.

So when Dean crawled into her lap nestling his head on her thigh, she burst into tears, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. Neither one of the boys even mentioned the elephant in the backseat, and Y/N was grateful, mainly because she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it herself.

John started the car, giving the house one last look - maybe he should have torched it. Either way, the witch was dead.

The sun was rising when they reached civilization. John was half dead behind the wheel, guiding the car through quiet streets towards the hospital, glancing in the rearview mirror to check on Y/N and Dean, curled up together in the backseat.

“Sam,” he whispered, nudging his youngest son, who opened his eyes and looked up. John didn’t know how Sam could sleep all folded up on himself like that, but apparently he could. “Cover story. We’re nearly there.” Sam nodded, yawning and stretching, before turning to check on Dean and Y/N.

“Me and you aren’t physically as bad. Dean needs to be checked for…” Sam swallowed, gritting his teeth and turning his head in rage. “He needs to be checked.” John’s fingers tightened on the wheel and he wished he could kill that foul creature all over again. “And Y/N needs to be… with the… baby… maybe car crash?”

Dean made a sound then. “We go in alone,” he murmured, not even opening his eyes. “I’ll take Y/N in. When they ask for details, I give them your cell. You found the phones right?”

“Yeah,” John grunted, “asshole had a virtual treasure trove of crap he’d taken from his victims. Found Y/N’s colt too.” He looked into the rearview again, smiling when Dean opened his eyes. “You sure you got this?”

“I got this,” Dean assured him, licking at his cracked and bloodied lips. “It’ll be easier if they call you in. Just remember to act worried.”

John frowned, pulling the car into the hospital parking lot, as far away from the door as he could manage without drawing attention. When he’d parked, he turned in his seat, his eyes connecting with his son’s. “Dean, I don’t need to act worried. I  _ am _ worried.”

There was a softness to Dean’s eyes then, but he swallowed it down, sitting up to nudge Y/N lightly. “Y/N, sweetheart? Gotta wake up.” Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked a few times, yawning. “We’re gonna go into the hospital and get some help, and Dad and Sam are gonna come later.”

“They need to be checked,” she muttered, clearly not entirely awake.

“We’re just worrying about you right now, Y/N,” Dean replied, pushing her hair out of her face. She flinched away and Dean’s expression contorted with hurt.

“It’s not you,” she whispered, avoiding his eyes. “I’m disgusting.”

“Don’t,” John said quietly. “Don’t think that way.” Y/N didn’t respond, curling away from Dean. “You gotta go.”

Dean slid across the seat, opening the passenger door and climbing out. He walked around, opening Y/N’s door, leaning in to pick her up. “No,” she protested, pushing at his arms. “I can walk. You’re hurt too.”  _ All your fault _ , her inner monologue provided, and her chest clenched with a cold feeling. “Just… just don’t…” Y/N pleaded, getting out of the car with a grunt.

“You’re gonna get cold,” Dean murmured, closing the door. John wound down the window.

“Get her inside,” he snapped. “I’ll drive around the block a few times, and wait for the call. Don’t take too long.” Dean nodded at the order, tugging Y/N into his side. John pulled away from the parking lot, disappearing from sight with Sam, and Dean sighed.

“Come on, Y/N. Just follow my lead.”

*****

When they tried to separate her from Dean, Y/N screamed. They’d walked into the hospital, her clinging to Dean like her life depended on it, and nurses swamped them the second they saw them. She’d tried to keep hold of him, but Y/N grip had failed, and by the end of it, they strapped her down.

She ran out of energy quickly - she hadn’t eaten or drunk properly in days. Each nurse reassured her that she was safe, but Y/N couldn’t believe it. A year ago, she’d been strong, independant, a goddamn hunter of evil creatures - but now she was broken and torn apart. It felt like Erik had changed her on a cellular level. It wasn’t her skin anymore - it was his.

Her sobs petered off when she finally lost consciousness, and the doctors could assess her properly. Numerous healing fractures, some that would need to be reset. Half a dozen lacerations that needed mending.

They needed answers - naturally, they called the cops first.

Dean managed to get them to call his dad, giving them a story that they’d been travelling months ago, and they were kidnapped. He didn’t want to tell them everything, didn’t want that shame, but the nurse triaging him was so kind and soft, that Dean snapped all over again, crying just as many tears as Y/N did in the next room.

John rushed in before the cops could get there, asking for his son.

They told them that Y/N was his girlfriend.

They had to lie when they asked how far along she was in her pregnancy. There was no way to avoid an interview with the cops.

John and Sam were quick - it helped when you were skilled at lying. They’d travelled from Kansas to find their missing family member, who’d in turn, come to search for his girlfriend. When they lost contact with Dean, they’d become worried, and that seemed to convince the officers about their swift arrival.

Dean was next. He gave the same story, that he’d come to look for his girlfriend, who’d gone missing a few months before. They asked about the pregnancy; he said he hadn’t known. They asked what their captor had done to her, and Dean nearly broke open again. He replied that he didn’t know, but then… then they asked what Erik did to him.

“He played with us,” Dean murmured, closing his eyes tightly. “Made her… made her…” He choked, willing away the tears that stung the back of his eyes and gave him a headache. “And he… he forced himself on… on me…” His words vanished, and the officers looked sympathetic. “Please, I don’t wanna talk anymore. Can someone just tell me if Y/N is alright?”

One of the officers, the elder by the looks of it, was kind and smiled, nodding. “I’ll go and check. You get some rest, son. You’ve had a hell of an ordeal.”

They didn’t know the half of it.

*****

His wolf smile was burned into the back of her eyelids, and she could hear his voice in her head.

_ He’s dead. He’s dead. _

“Miss?” A distinctly feminine voice was calling her. She felt like she hadn’t heard anyone but him speak for years. Had it only been months?

“Yes?” Y/N croaked, opening her eyes, desperate to forget his face. The doctor leaning over her was round-faced and red cheeked - one of those genuine healer types. Her ID proclaimed her as Dr Bennett, from the OBGYN service.

“I’m Frances,” the doctor said, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m about to remove your restraints. And I’m gonna give you a quick examination, is that okay? We need to check your injuries, and… and the babies.”

“Babies?” Her voice was groggy, and she couldn’t quite make sense of what the woman was telling her. “As in… more than one?”

“Have you had an ultrasound, Y/N?” Dr Bennett asked, elevating her bed slightly so Y/N rested in a little more of a seated position. She shook her head at the other lady, who just smiled that lovely smile again. “Okay, we’ll get one done soon. Do you know how far along you are?” Another shake, and still, the smile was patient and kind. “Okay, honey, do you think you can put your feet together for me?” Y/N followed her instruction, wincing at the pain. “Is that okay? Good,” Dr Bennett praised, placing her hands on Y/N knees, “now just relax your legs, so your knees just fall to the side.”

It hurt, but Y/N managed it, watching the doctor carefully. “What are you doing?” she asked, more curious than afraid.

Dr Bennett smiled. “I’m going to have to use a speculum, to check your internal injuries. Is that okay, or would you like me to get a chaperone?”

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “No, no, it’s okay.”

“I may have to ask you a few questions, that might seem a little uncomfortable,” the woman continued, pulling on some gloves. “At any time you feel like you can’t answer, you just tell me to shut up, that good, honey?” Y/N smiled again, making a little crying laugh sound, and Dr Bennett patted her thigh. “It’s okay, we want everything here to be comfortable for you.”

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, feeling something inside her shift and thrust out against her skin. She winced, placing one hand on her belly. “Ow.”

“You must be a fair way along then,” Dr Bennett smiled, taking a speculum off of the tray. “If they’re kicking that hard.” Y/N’s smile turned nervous - she hadn’t been pregnant a few hours ago. Was this his plan? Two of them? What would he have done to them? She shuddered, and the doctor noticed. “Did you know his name?”

“Erik,” Y/N whispered, “his name was Erik.”

Dr Bennett nodded. “I’m going to examine you now,” she informed her, and Y/N grimaced as she carried out the procedure, frowning the whole way through. “Was there penetrative rape?” the doctor asked calmly, and Y/N felt fresh tears in her eyes when she nodded. “Okay, it’s okay,” Dr Bennett soothed, pulling away. “You’ve got some bruising, but no lacerations, and the cervix feels fine.”

“He didn’t…” Y/N gasped for a breath, shaking her head. “He didn’t just -”

“I know, I know, honey,” the doctor said, pulling the blanket up over Y/N’s lower half.. “Relax your legs. I can’t see any damage there, but I can get a consult in for you if you like?” Y/N shrugged - she didn’t know what that entailed. “Okay, you just stay right there, and I’ll be back with the ultrasound. I think your boyfriend’s father and brother are here. Is there anyone I can call for you?”

“Can I see John?” Y/N asked, quietly. “They’re pretty much my family. I don’t have anyone else.”

Dr Bennett smiled and nodded, leaving the room. It was too quiet in there, and Y/N had spent enough time in the quiet. She needed sound.

A few seconds later, the door opened, and John looked in, smiling in relief when he saw her. He rushed to the side of her bed, bending down to kiss her forehead, and Y/N reached up with one hand, ignoring the wires trailing from it. “John,” she whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks.

“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay.”

“Please, stay,” Y/N begged, clinging to his hand as soon as he offered it. “They took Dean away -”

“He’s next door, I’m not going anywhere, darlin’, not unless you tell me to.” He smiled, and Y/N sobbed with a smile on her face. Dr Bennett reappeared, dragging the ultrasound equipment with her. “Hi, Doc. You got some good news for us?”

Dr Bennett smiled at the Winchester patriarch. “She’s gonna be just fine. Few bones that will need setting, from what Dr Jennings tells me, but it’s mostly superficial.” She plugged the machine in, waiting for it to boot up. “How about we get a look at these babies?”

“Babies?” John exclaimed, raising his eyebrow at Y/N, who shrugged. The doctor laughed under her breath.

“Thrown in at the deep end of grandfatherhood,” she commented, and John’s cheeks colored. Neither he, nor Y/N, had discounted the fact that the babies might be his. “Now,” Dr Bennett murmured, not seeing their shared look, “let’s get the angle right.” She reached under the cart, picking up the ultrasound gel, holding it over Y/N’s bared belly. “This is gonna be cold, honey.”

Y/N hissed at the freezing gel, glaring up at the screen. It was fuzzy, black and white, and for a second she couldn’t make out anything. The doctor moved the wand around, stopping when she found a pulsing spot on the screen. “That’s baby number one,” she said, pointing to the spot. “Strong heart, big for a twin. I think you’re probably at about thirty-two weeks?” Y/N glanced at John, both of them knowing the truth.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Y/N asked, looking back at the doctor.

“I’ve got a pretty clear view. Looks like this is a… little boy,” Dr Bennett grinned over at her, and Y/N couldn’t help the little thrill of excitement. Despite how this had happened, the thought of anything hurting these babies…

John frowned at the screen. “What’s that?”

“That’s the heartbeat of…” Dr Bennett shifted the wand, peering closely at the screen. “Your little girl. They look like they’re fraternal…” She trailed off, and Y/N jerked her head up, worried at the sudden stop.

“Dr Bennett?” she asked, her voice tiny and her hand clinging to John’s. He looked just as concerned, but then the doctor released a little laugh.

“This may come as a little bit of a shock,” Dr Bennett said, turning to face her, but still holding the wand over Y/N’s belly. “This spot here…” She pointed to the screen. “That is the heartbeat of your third baby.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she stuttered, her gaze on the screen. “Th-third baby?”

The doctor nodded affirmatively. “You’re carrying triplets.”


	12. Chapter 12

“So there’s three?”

“Yes, Sam,” John groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That hasn’t changed in the last six minutes.” Sam was lounging across four chairs, stretching his long legs out. He looked exhausted, and John wasn’t much better off - he hadn’t been able to get any rest since the doctors had booted him out of Y/N’s room. “God, how long is this going to take?”

Sam shrugged, standing up. He was restless, antsy, and John knew exactly why. There wasn’t a minute going by that he didn’t blame himself as well.

“Do you think… you think she’ll want to see me?” Sam asked, not meeting his dad’s eyes. “After everything -”

“Y/N knows you were just as much a victim,” John replied, gesturing to the chair next to him. “How about you sit your ass down? You’re tiring me out with all the pacing.”

The youngest Winchester threw himself into a seat, his legs sprawling out in front of him. “What happens now? The police are gonna keep investigating this.”

“We wait until the doctor’s give Y/N and Dean the all clear. Shouldn’t take too long. Then we wait for the night shift, and get the heck outta dodge.” The older man scrubbed his hand through his hair, sighing heavily. “Gotta figure out where we’re going from here.”

“Y/N deserves better than this life, Dad. Three kids?” Sam shook his head. “We can’t leave her alone with that. Not when any one of us might be the father.” John didn’t answer that, but he agreed. This life was no place for children, and John wished he’d realized that when he’d been hellbent on revenge. Y/N needed somewhere safe.

The door opened, and Dean limped in, giving his dad and brother a smile. “Hey,” he murmured, and John instantly took stock of his son’s form. He was battered and bruised, and didn’t move to sit down, an action that made rage curl in the pit of his belly. Not for the first time, he wished he’d done Erik more damage before putting him down.

“Are you being discharged?” Sam asked, sitting up straight.

“Discharged myself. No broken bones, just a few cuts and bruises.” He was putting on a brave face, like Winchesters always did. “How’s Y/N? They told me she was resting, that she wasn’t seriously hurt -”

“There’s three,” Sam said, suddenly. “She’s thirty two weeks pregnant with friggin’  _ triplets _ .” Dean gaped at him, unsure of what to say back to that. “How do that many people fit inside someone?” Sam asked, tipping his head to one side. John glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You need to get some sleep,” John commented.

Dean shook his head. “Triplets? Isn’t that…” John and Sam both gave him the same look. “Okay, yeah, magic involved,” he acknowledged, sighing and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I hate witches. Like, I  _ really _ hate witches.”

*****

“So, your blood tests all came back clear, but I wanna run a course of antibiotics anyway, just to make sure.” Dr Bennett looked down at the chart, smiling widely. “And your babies are very healthy and a good size. You seem to be okay to carry to full term, but I’d like to get you an appointment with one of our maternity team, just to -”

Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s okay, Dr Bennett. I can schedule an appointment with my doctor back home in Lawrence.”

Dr Bennett gave her a funny look, scrunching her nose to force her glass further up. The beads they were attached to rattle as they swung side to side, and Y/N wondered how annoying it must get to wear them all the time.

“I’m not discharging you, Y/N. Not for a few days.” Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but the doctor held up a hand. “Now, I’ve seen those three hulking men that are with you. I’ve no doubt you’d be safe. But, as a doctor, I’m seeing a frightened girl puttin’ on a brave face, thinking she’s had a tough life and this is just part of it, right?” Dr Bennett sat on the bed, taking Y/N’s hand. “Honey, we need to know exactly what happened. Where he caught you. What he did -”

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/N mumbled, tugging her hand away. “It’s over.”

“You’re not the only one who matters in this,” Dr Bennett soothed, looking at her with pity, and Y/N stopped liking her instantly.

If there was one thing she didn’t want, it was people to look at her with pity. Yeah, it happened. She couldn’t change that - but she could forget it.

“You have these babies to think of. No matter where they came from -”

“They’re not his,” Y/N interrupted, fixing her eyes on Dr Bennett. “Erik was infertile.”

“You were pregnant before?” Y/N remained silent and the other woman sighed. “I can’t force you to tell me what happened. But you’re going to have to stay here for observation, and I’d like you to have a talk with our psych team.”

“I don’t need that.”

Dr Bennett sighed. “Y/N, you’ve been through a really traumatic event. You can’t do this alone.”

Y/N looked towards the door, feeling the tiny kicks and nudges of the sudden family she was gestating. Except it didn’t feel so sudden. She turned her eyes back to the doctor, smiling.

“I’m not alone.”

*****

Getting the intravenous drips out of her arms was difficult, especially with the added weight she wasn’t used to. But she managed it, hopping down onto unsteady legs. Wobbling towards the door, Y/N grasped the handle with shaking fingers, being as quiet as she could while she tiptoed out into the hall.

The nurses station was deserted, although she could see a doctor in the ward room across the hall. Leaving her door pulled to, Y/N moved off, padding with bare feet along the hall, ducking into a bathroom when another doctor walked past her, nose deep in a chart.

It was another hallway before she found the relative’s room, and John asleep, propped up in a chair. Y/N smiled fondly, moving towards him, and placing her hand on his shoulder. He started, relaxing as he realized who was touching him. “Y/N…”

“Can we get out of here?” she asked, and John frowned.

“Did the doctor discharge you?”

“Not exactly,” Y/N murmured, lacing her fingers through his. “But she wants to call a psych on me, and I don’t wanna stick around for that. I’m okay, the babies are okay - can we just go?” John hesitated, and Y/N stuck her bottom lip out to pout at him. “Please, John. I’ve spent too long imprisoned. I want to be outside.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I am dying for a burger with fries and grease, and a chocolate milkshake.”

John laughed at that, cupping her face. “Okay, princess, let’s get you outta here.”

*****

They couldn’t stay at the motel. When John and Y/N arrived back, Sam and Dean were already packed, showered and ready to go. Y/N would have killed for a shower, but she settled for some drive thru and the backseat of the Impala, where Dean was quite content to let his dad drive, and sit with her.

It was exhausting, going from zero to pregnant in twelve hours, and Y/N quickly dozed off, the rhythmic stroke of Dean’s hand against her head. With her boys there, she felt safe, and she rested, actually  _ rested _ , for the first time in so long.

She didn’t wake until they reached Sioux Falls. It was a fourteen hour drive, and John was close to dropping when he finally pulled the car into Singer’s Salvage Yard, seeing his old friend on the front porch, waiting for them.

She still didn’t wake when Sam lifted her from the backseat, carrying her through the house up to the guest room. John informed Bobby of what was going on, then insisted on calling Pastor Jim to let him know she was alive.

The more complicated details could be explained later.

“Dad,” Dean started, as John hung up the phone. “Go get some rest.”

“You take the bed, Dean, I’m okay down here,” John ordered, but Dean shook his head.

“I’ve slept the most out of all of us… except Y/N. You haven’t had more than an hour in the last few days. Go up and sleep in the guest room with Y/N. I don’t want her to be alone, and Sam… Sam’s a mess.” Dean’s cheeks were tinged with pink; his brother wasn’t the only one struggling. “I’m gonna stay down here and talk to Bobby.”

John watched his son for a moment, before stepping forward and placing one hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with Dean. But just so you know - I love you, you’re my son, and we’re gonna get through this together okay?”

Dean nodded, wiping at the tears in his eyes. “I know, Dad. But you’re no good to anyone like this.” There was a small smile on his dad’s face for a second, before John pulled him in close and kissed his forehead. Then he turned away and headed up the stairs, hearing Bobby invite Dean to sit down and have a whiskey.

Sam was at Y/N doorway, hovering, unsure of himself. John approached slowly, and Sam looked over at him, shrugging. “I wasn’t… she looks so small…”

“Sammy - go get some rest in the other guest room. Standing here blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault…”

“I should have had more control,” Sam replied, clenching his jaw and dropping his head. The thick mop of unruly hair on his head covered his eyes, and John reached out, placing his hand on Sam’s shoulder like he had with Dean.

“Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll face the fallout.” Sam nodded, shuffling away and John watched until he disappeared into the other room, shutting the door. He turned towards the room where Y/N was asleep on the bed, wrapped up in covers. A fond smile curled his lip and he walked inside, pulling off his shirt and rifling through the drawers for the spare clothes he knew Bobby kept. Once he had changed into a pair of sweats, he moved to the bed, lifting the covers.

It was hard not to pull her into his arms, in an attempt to keep her safe, but John didn’t want to disturb her, or scare her. He kept inches between them, lying on his side, tense and unable to relax, despite the weariness in his bones. When that position became too uncomfortable, he rolled onto his back.

“John?” Her voice was a tiny whisper, and he frowned looking over at her back. She shifted, wincing as she moved her weight onto the other side, and John lifted his arm, allowing her the space to curl against his side. Her skin was warm, and as her belly rested onto his torso, something wiggled and kicked against him from  _ inside _ her.

“Whoa… you got some active feet in there,” he commented, and Y/N giggled, reaching over to take his other arm. She guided his hand down to her belly, and let him feel the kicking. John’s eyes were wide, and for a second, he allowed it to be a normal, domestic scene, not the product of a twisted, centuries-old witch.

Y/N deserved better.

“Stay with me?” she asked, quietly, and John dropped a kiss on the crown of her head, closing his eyes.

“As long as you need,” he promised.


	13. Chapter 13

Y/N woke earlier than John, finding him warm against her cheek, and she smiled at his comforting scent. She wanted to stay there, in the safe cocoon, try to ignore the world - but her bladder wasn’t having any of that.

Slipping from the bed without falling over, which was nothing short of a miracle, Y/N dashed into the bathroom, relieving herself and washing her hands. John was still asleep when she emerged, and she noticed the door was open. From down the hall, there was a shout, and Y/N frowned, padding along the floor in just the sleep shorts and tank top that stretched over her swollen belly.

The guest room door at the end of the hall was shut, but the muffled sounds were definitely coming from inside there. She crept up quietly, opening the door to see Sam on the floor, his covers twisted around his feet as he shuddered and tried to fight off whatever it was he was seeing.

His eyes were closed shut, and Y/N realized he was having a nightmare.

With the flailing punches and kicks, there was no way she was getting close to him, so she opted for the best thing available. His sneakers were by the door, ripped down one side and covered in mud, but they would do. Y/N picked one shoe up, aiming for Sam’s belly and tossing it across the room.

It bounced off his abs, leaving a muddy smear across his white shirt, and she couldn’t help but smile when he sat up with a shocked look on his face. “Y/N?”

“You were having a nightmare,” she explained, leaning against the door frame. “And I think you fell out of bed.”

Sam looked down, getting to his feet and dragging the covers back onto the bed. He avoided looking at her, and Y/N sighed, shaking her head.

“Sam, I’m okay.”

He winced at the words, stopping what he was doing. “I… Y/N… the things I did to you -”

“Erik made you.”

“But I enjoyed it,” Sam snapped back, red staining his cheeks. He looked exhausted, strung out and pale, and Y/N was struck with guilt. If she hadn’t been so weak, the Winchesters wouldn’t have come looking for her. They wouldn’t have been taken and… and… touched. Ruined. Broken like her. “I enjoyed it,” Sam repeated, breaking down and sitting on the bed.

“Sam, it wasn’t your fault. If someone is controlling your body, it doesn’t matter what your senses tell you. In your heart, you knew it was wrong, you knew you couldn’t control it.” Y/N stepped closer, sliding herself onto the bed next to him, reaching out to touch his knee. “You’d never do anything like that if you were in control, would you?”

“No,” he said, placing his hand over hers.

“You look exhausted,” she added, using her other hand to cup his cheek. “Why don’t I stay with you until you’re sleeping properly?” Sam didn’t look entirely sold on the idea, but Y/N wasn’t taking no for an answer. She crawled up the bed, lying on her back, and the youngest Winchester watched for a moment, before letting her tug the sleeve of his shirt, coercing him into lying down.

Sam rested his head on her chest, hesitantly reaching up a hand to touch her bump. As soon as his hand made contact with it, one of the babies kicked out, and Sam snatched his hand back in shock. Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

“Try again.”

His fingers were shaking as he put his hand back, being immediately rewarded with another sharp jab to the palm. A smile split his face in two, and Y/N pulled him closer, trying everything she could to let him know that he hadn’t hurt her.

Sam fell asleep quickly after that, and when she was sure he was out cold, Y/N slipped from his bed, and returned to John, slinking back into her spot against his warm body. “Sam okay?” John asked, not opening his eyes and barely moving his lips.

“He’s fine now,” Y/N whispered, laying her head over his heart, listening to the steady beat. “We’re gonna get through this.”

John smirked, holding her closer with his arm. “Yeah. We are.”

*****

Getting through it started on a bad foot, although it didn’t seem like it. For four days, they bunked down at Bobby’s, making sensible plans, getting appointments for Y/N, and absolutely avoiding the subject of hunting. Dean drowned himself in cheap liquor, Sam refused to sleep, and John… John was like a protective mother bear, watching each one of them carefully and completely missing the signs.

Dean snapped first. He’d gone to a bar, having drunk through Bobby’s entire stash, and found trouble. Flirting with a waitress had annoyed her boyfriend, and said boyfriend had told Dean to get lost. With a jabbing finger to the shoulder.

The eldest Winchester brother was reminded of the things that had been done to him, not that he’d been able to forget, and the alcohol in his system had only fuelled his rage.

It was only by pure chance that John had got there in time to stop Dean finishing the guy off in the gravel outside the bar. Sheriff Mills had insisted on a night in the cells for Dean to sober up, while trying to get the full story out of John.

Y/N was what it took to make the other woman understand.

From then on, Jody was involved. The menfolk were unhappy, but she had training in this sort of area, and although she wasn’t clued into the supernatural side of things, she was a great help. She didn’t press for a police report, or specific details, but she  _ knew _ .

It was a hard path to get Dean sober in the following weeks, and Sam’s insomnia was a recurring problem. He’d drink coffee, take pills, anything to stay awake, until Y/N confronted him. And that was when John stepped in, realizing that Y/N was on her own destructive path.

She was focusing all her energy on everyone else’s problems, instead of confronting her own.

Three weeks passed. Bobby was happy to have them for as long as they needed, but John knew they had to think about the future. It wasn’t just them anymore, but Y/N had made it clear,  _ they _ needed to hunt. They still had a mission, and still had enemies out there.

John didn’t want to let her go. It didn’t matter to him how it happened, all he knew was that he was potentially a father all over again, and leaving Y/N to cope with three children, alone, after everything? John couldn’t let it happen, and he wouldn’t let his boys ignore their potential responsibility.

He found a house. He furnished it, and he made sure everyone had their own space. Sam and Dean would have to share a room, but it wouldn’t be the first time, and John thought they might benefit from that shared time, help each other heal.

They’d always been good at that before.

He had to hope that what Erik did hadn’t changed them as people. He didn’t want to lose his kind, caring, strong boys. That would be the worst kind of repercussion from what had happened to them. Sam had darkness in him, always had, and what the witch had made him do would only add to his anguish, and John needed Sam to believe in himself. It was the only way he’d survive.

Dean needed to talk to someone. He’d refute the suggestion, and he’d have to be dragged kicking and screaming, but John knew he needed to confide in someone. Someone who Dean didn’t feel would think less of him. Not that any of them would, but Dean wouldn’t see it that way.

John had a plan.

*****

The plan went to shit exactly thirteen days later.

It was a bright, warm autumn morning, and even the cockerel’s at Mrs O’Nally’s next door hadn’t woken up. An ambulance sat, engine running, just on the driveway of Singer’s Salvage Yard. The front door was wide open, and Sam sat on the porch, his long legs bent up enough for him to rest his elbows on his knees. He looked nervous, and tired.

Dean came out, placing his hand on the other’s shoulder, offering him a small smile. The younger brother got up, smiling back and hugging him, just as an EMT appeared in the doorway, pulling a gurney. Y/N was on it, blankets covering her and an oxygen mask over her face.

John was wringing his hands as he followed, glancing at Dean and Sam. Bobby stood in the doorway, nodding his head when John’s eyes drew to him. “You go with her,” Bobby said, waving him off. “Dean can drive Sam over in the Impala. I’ll call Jim.”

There was a grateful smile on John’s face when he turned back to the ambulance, climbing in just as the doors pulled shut. Dean patted Sam’s arm, and headed over to the Impala.

A few minutes later, and Bobby was stood in his living room, wondering how he was gonna get used to the quiet around here.

*****

Y/N thought she’d experience exhaustion enough in her life, but looking back, there wasn’t a single moment she felt more exhausted than she was right now. Her legs were numb, her back hurt, and there was a burning between her legs that felt like a bomb had gone off inside her.

And all she wanted was a shower.

Thirty-one hours of labor, and the possibility of a c-section, had absolutely floored her. She hadn’t been ready for it, hadn’t quite let it sink in, and yet, as one by one tiny screams filled the air, it felt… right.

Two boys, a handsome 5lb 1oz and 4lb 10oz each. One had a dark thatch of hair, while the other was fairer in complexion. Both were vocal as hell.

And one 4lb 3oz girl. She wasn’t as loud as her brothers, and she was the last to be born, reluctant to come out at all in the end. A few dark wisps of hair scattered across her head, and the most beautiful dark eyes, laid with long lashes, and a tiny button nose.

All three of them were in the NICU, in tiny plastic cases, with tubes and wire monitoring them. It was only a precaution for the night, and to give Y/N some rest.

She didn’t really want rest.

“Doctor,” she asked, directing her question to the white coated lady who’d come in to check her over. “Can I ask you a favor, and not get judged for it?”

The doctor raised her eyebrow, smiling a little. “Sweetie, I’ve probably heard it before.”

Y/N doubted that, a lot. Either way, she smiled back, faking a little laugh. “Yeah. Is it possible I could get a paternity test on my babies?”

“I’m sure we can arrange that. Do you know who you need to ask for samples?”

This time, the laugh wasn’t fake. “There are three huge guys in the waiting room. Or possibly pressed up against the window of the NICU.” Y/N paused, thinking of how all three Winchesters had taken shifts to guard, sleep, and stay with her. She was so goddamn lucky to have them. “They’ll give you a sample.”

The doctor blinked. “All three of them?”

Y/N nodded brightly. “Yes, please.”


	14. Epilogue

**_Six years later_ **

There were three squeals and a thud as six little feet pounded down the stairs towards the door, waiting for it to open. Y/N stood at the entrance to the kitchen, arms folded over her chest as she watched them dance with excitement. James was at the front, jumping up and down on the spot as a shadow fell over the patterned glass in the door. Jesse pushed his brother to the side when the sound of jingling keys in the lock filtered through, and by the time the door actually opened, Molly was two feet back from her brothers, watching them more than the door.

John walked in first, nearly losing his footing as James and Jesse sped past him and down the steps. Molly was hugging her doll tightly, looking up as John chuckled and turned his attention to her. “Hey darlin’,” he murmured, dropping to his knees.

Tiny arms choked him as they held on tightly, and he closed his eyes, hugging her back. Molly giggled when his beard tickled her, and John’s eyes snapped up to Y/N, who smiled widely. “Welcome home,” she whispered, pushing off of the door. John stood up with Molly in his arms, slinging one arm around Y/N’s shoulder and kissing her temple. “We missed you.”

Sam entered the house with Jesse on his back, making the small boy squeal when he ducked down suddenly. Dean was behind him, hand in hand with James, who was chattering on and one. Y/N kissed John’s cheek, glad to have him home after a long week.

“You got the rugaru?” she asked, and John nodded. “No loose ends.”

“No loose ends,” John agreed, letting her pull him into the kitchen. “And no cases for the next week, like we promised. I think the boys could use the rest.”

“Guest room is cleared out for them to sleep in.”

“Daddy John, Daddy John!” James called, dragging Dean over towards him. “Daddy said you set a monster on fire!” John gave Dean a stern look, letting Molly get down from his arms.

“What?” Dean asked, defensively. “He’s a smart kid.” He ruffled James hair, sending him off to play with his siblings. “What’s for dinner, Y/N?” Moving past her and his father, he headed for the refrigerator, dropping a kiss on Y/N’s cheek as he went.

“Steak,” she commented, smiling up at John.

“Awesome,” Dean grinned, finding a beer and opening it up. “Hmm, good to see you too,” he whispered, ignoring John’s eye rolling. He pointed at Sam as the tallest of the three walked in, a Spiderman band-aid across his cheek. “Dude…”

Y/N giggled, reaching over and peeling the bandaid off. “Jesse still playing doctor?” There was a small graze underneath the band-aid, and Sam chuckled, rubbing it lightly. “I thought you were being careful?” She frowned, cupping his cheek.

“We were,” Sam replied, pulling her hand away and kissing her on the forehead. “But Dean -”

“I didn’t do anything!” Dean snapped, scowling at his brother. “You ran into the door, and -”

“That’s enough,” John yelled, and Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to giggle. “You two, go and get the crap outta the car. Laundry. Now.” Dean and Sam slinked off, sulking, and John sighed, shaking his head. “Sometimes, it’s like -”

“They’re your kids?” Y/N finished, and he narrowed his eyes, catching her around the waist and pulling her against his body. “Hmm, missed you,” she whispered, rubbing her nose against his. “And I get a whole week of you?”

“You do,” John rumbled, bending his head to kiss her. “A whole seven days. Maybe more.”

“More?”

He smiled, cupping her face and kissing her softly. “I think it’s about time I got out of this business. Dean and Sam don’t need me anymore.”

Y/N looked up at him, confused. She’d expected to quit hunting after the kids came along, but she’d never stopped them. It had been hard to figure out the logistics of everything, especially when each of the triplets was the child of a different Winchester. Molly was entirely John’s daughter. She was quiet, smart, and exerted some sort of calming influence over her two brothers. In any situation, it was clear she was in charge, determined and a force to be reckoned with.

James was Dean’s. Named for Y/N’s pseudo father figure, James was brave, but unfortunately, always on the lookout for new ways to get into trouble. He was obsessed with cars, and action films, and last week, he’d told his mom he was going to drive NASCAR.

And there was Jesse. Sam’s. With his long gangly limbs, shaggy mess of hair, and soulful brown eyes that already mimicked his father’s puppy dog look perfectly. He had a thirst for knowledge that made Sam and Y/N both proud, and was already top of his class at school.

“They’re always gonna need you,” Y/N whispered, touching John’s face.

“Not for hunting. I’ll be back up for the tough stuff, like when we took Azazel down, but right now? I just wanna be home with you.” John smirked, holding her waist with one hand. “And I kinda wanna make good on that promise.”

“Promise?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Making an honest Winchester outta you,” he reminded her, and she gasped in realization, her lips forming a little “o” shape. “Yeah, see? Knew you hadn’t forgotten.”

For all legal intents and purposes, to the outside world, John was the parent of all three kids. But they didn’t hide the truth from the triplets. It was simple enough to distinguish the three men for them - Daddy Sam, Daddy John, Daddy Dean. Each child knew who their dad was, and just referred to them as Daddy. Y/N didn’t care what anyone else thought. She’d hoped as they grew up, the kids wouldn’t either.

“I gotta started on dinner. You wanna go make sure the triplets aren’t setting fire to something?” Y/N asked, pushing John off with a sweet smile. He laughed and nodded, disappearing from sight. A few moments later, screams and shouts of joy filtered through to her, and she looked out of the kitchen window.

They’d come a long way. Dean still attending counselling, but he’d moved on. He and Y/N were still close, but he’d never gotten in the way of what she’d developed with his dad. Sam had finally accepted that he couldn’t change what had happened, but he’d refused counselling, putting his energy into protecting his family. And Y/N… she still had nightmares on occasion.

As she watched all six of them in the garden, laughing and kicking a football around, while John gave Molly a piggy back ride like he was a horse, Y/N could easily put the past behind her.

She smiled her wolf smile, and went out to join her pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone, for your wonderful comments and support with this fic. I was very nervous about posting it because it was such a dark subject matter. But I feel like it has been very well received, and I hope you've enjoyed the happy ending :)


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